THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


KNEBWORTH  LIMITED   EDITION 


RIENZI 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  ROMAN  TRIBUNES 


BY 

EDWARD  BULWER   LYTTON 

(LORD    LYTTON J 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES 

VOL.  I. 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 
BOSTON 

ESTES    AND    LAURIAT 
1891 


KNEBWORTH   LIMITED   EDITION. 
Limited  to  One  Thousand  Copies 

No,  595... 


TYPOGRAPHY,  ELECTROTYPING,  AND 
PRINTING  BY  JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON, 
UNIVERSITY  PRESS,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


College 
Library 


ft/ 


TO 

ALESSANDRO    MANZONI, 

AS  TO  THE  GENIUS  OF  THE  PLACE, 

ARE  DEDICATED  THESE  FRUITS  GATHERED 
ON  THE  SOIL  OF  ITALIAN  FICTION. 

LONDON,  December  1,  1835. 


1C43331 


DEDICATION, 


PREFIXED  TO  THE  FIRST  COLLECTED  EDITION  OF  THE 
AUTHOR'S  WORKS  IN  1840. 


MY  DEAR  MOTHER,  —  In  inscribing  with  your  beloved  and  honored  name 
this  Collection  of  my  Works,  I  could  wish  that  the  fruits  of  my  manhood 
were  worthier  of  the  tender  and  anxious  pains  bestowed  upon  my  education 
in  youth. 

Left  yet  young,  and  with  no  ordinary  accomplishments  and  gifts,  the  sole 
guardian  of  your  sons,  to  them  you  devoted  the  best  years  of  your  useful  and 
spotless  life ;  and  any  success  it  be  their  fate  to  attain  in  the  paths  they  have 
severally  chosen,  would  have  its  principal  sweetness  in  the  thought  that  such 
success  was  the  reward  of  one  whose  hand  aided  every  struggle,  and  whose 
heart  sympathized  in  every  care. 

From  your  graceful  and  accomplished  taste,  I  early  learned  that  affection 
for  literature  which  has  exercised  so  large  an  influence  over  the  pursuits  of 
my  life ;  and  you  who  were  my  first  guide  were  my  earliest  critic.  Do  you  re- 
member the  summer  days,  which  seemed  to  me  so  short,  when  you  repeated 
to  me  those  old  ballads  with  which  Percy  revived  the  decaying  spirit  of  our 
national  muse,  or  the  smooth  couplets  of  Pope,  or  those  gentle  and  polished 
verses  with  the  composition  of  which  you  had  beguiled  your  own  earlier 
leisure?  It  was  those  easy  lessons,  far  more  than  the  harsher  rudiments 
learned  subsequently  in  schools,  that  taught  me  to  admire  and  to  imitate; 
and  in  them  I  recognize  the  germ  of  the  flowers,  however  perishable  they  be, 
that  I  now  bind  up  and  lay  upon  a  shrine  hallowed  by  a  thousand  memories 
of  unspeakable  affection.  Happy,  while  I  borrowed  from  your  taste,  could  I 
have  found  it  not  more  difficult  to  imitate  your  virtues,  —  your  spirit  of  active 
and  extended  benevolence,  your  cheerful  piety,  your  considerate  justice,  your 
kindly  charity,  and  all  the  qualities  that  brighten  a  nature  more  free  from  the 
thought  of  self  than  any  it  has  been  my  lot  to  meet  with.  Never  more  than 
at  this  moment  did  I  wish  that  my  writings  were  possessed  of  a  merit  which 
might  outlive  my  time,  so  that  at  least  these  lines  might  remain  a  record  of 
the  excellence  of  the  Mother  and  the  gratitude  of  the  Son. 

E.  L.  B. 

LONDON,  January  6, 1840. 


PREFACE 
TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION  OF  RIENZL 


I  BEGAN  this  tale  two  years  ago  at  Rome.  On  removing 
to  Naples  I  threw  it  aside  for  "  The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii," 
which  required  more  than  "  Rienzi "  the  advantage  of  resi- 
dence within  reach  of  the  scenes  described.  The  fate  of  the 
Roman  Tribune  continued,  however,  to  haunt  and  impress 
me,  and  some  time  after  "  Pompeii "  was  published,  I  re- 
newed my  earlier  undertaking.  I  regarded  the  completion^ 
of  these  volumes,  indeed,  as  a  kind  of  duty  ;  for  having  had 
occasion  to  read  the  original  authorities  from  which  mod- 
ern historians  have  drawn  their  accounts  of  the  life  of 
Rienzi,  I  was  led  to  believe  that  a  very  remarkable  man 
had  been  superficially  judged,  and  a  very  important  period 
crudely  examined.1  And  this  belief  was  sufficiently  strong 
to  induce  me  at  first  to  meditate  a  more  serious  work  upon 
the  life  and  times  of  Rienzi. 2  Various  reasons  concurred 
against  this  project,  and  I  renounced  the  biography  to  com- 
mence the  fiction.  I  have  still,  however,  adhered,  with  a 
greater  fidelity  than  is  customary  in  Romance,  to  all  the 
leading  events  of  the  public  life  of  the  Roman  Tribune ; 
and  the  reader  will  perhaps  find  in  these  pages  a  more  full 
and  detailed  account  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  Rienzi  than  in 

1  See  Appendix,  Nos.  I.  and  II. 

2  I  have  adopted  the  termination  of  Rienzi  instead  of  Rienzo,  as  being  more 
familiar  to  the  general  reader.    But  the  latter  is  perhaps  the  more  accurate 
reading,  since  the  name  was  a  popular  corruption  from  Lorenzo. 


viii  PREFACE. 

any  English  work  of  which  I  am  aware.  I  have,  it  is  true, 
taken  a  view  of  his  character  different  in  some  respects 
from  that  of  Gibbon  or  Sismondi.  But  it  is  a  view,  in  all 
its  main  features,  which  I  believe  (and  think  I  could  prove) 
myself  to  be  warranted  in  taking,  not  less  by  the  facts  of 
History  than  the  laws  of  Fiction.  In  the  mean  while,  as  I 
have  given  the  facts  from  which  I  have  drawn  my  inter- 
pretation of  the  principal  agent,  the  reader  has  sufficient 
data  for  his  own  judgment.  In  the  picture  of  the  Roman 
Populace,  as  in  that  of  the  Roman  Nobles  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  I  follow  literally  the  descriptions  left  to  us ;  they 
\  are  not  flattering,  but  they  are  faithful,  likenesses. 

Preserving  generally  the  real  chronology  of  Rienzi's  life, 
the  plot  of  this  work  extends  over  a  space  of  some  years, 
and  embraces  the  variety  of  characters  necessary  to  a  true 
delineation  of  events.  The  story,  therefore,  cannot  have 
precisely  that  order  of  interest  found  in  fictions  strictly 
and  genuinely  dramatic,  in  which  (to  my  judgment  at 
least)  the  time  ought  to  be  as  limited  as  possible,  and  the 
characters  as  few ;  no  new  character  of  importance  to  the 
catastrophe  being  admissible  towards  the  end  of  the  work. 
'  If  I  may  use  the  word  "  Epic  "  in  its  most  modest  and  un- 
assuming acceptation,  this  Fiction,  in  short,  though  indulg- 
ing in  dramatic  situation,  belongs,  as  a  whole,  rather  to 
xthe  Epic  than  the  Dramatic  school. 

I  cannot  conclude  without  rendering  the  tribute  of  my 
praise  and  homage  to  the  versatile  and  gifted  Author  of 
the  beautiful  Tragedy  of  Rienzi.  Considering  that  our 
hero  be  the  same ;  considering  that  we  had  the  same 
materials  from  which  to  choose  our  several  stories,  —  I 
trust  I  shall  be  found  to  have  little,  if  at  all,  trespassed 
upon  ground  previously  occupied.  With  the  single  excep- 
tion of  a  love-intrigue  between  a  relative  of  Rienzi  and 
one  of  the  antagonist  party,  which  makes  the  plot  of  Miss 
Mitford's  Tragedy,  and  is  little  more  than  an  episode  in  my 


PREFACE.  ix 

Romance,  having  slight  effect  on  the  conduct  and  none  on 
the  fate  of  the  hero,  I  am  not  aware  of  any  resemblance 
between  the  two  works ;  and  even  this  coincidence  I  could 
easily  have  removed,  had  I  deemed  it  the  least  advisable : 
but  it  would  be  almost  discreditable  if  I  had  nothing  that 
resembled  a  performance  possessing  so  much  it  were  an 
honor  to  imitate. 

In  fact,  the  prodigal  materials  of  the  story,  the  rich  and 
exuberant  complexities  of  Rienzi's  character,  joined  to  the 
advantage  possessed  by  the  Novelist  of  embracing  all 
that  the  Dramatist  must  reject,1  are  sufficient  to  prevent 
Dramatist  and  Novelist  from  interfering  with  each  other. 

LONDON,  December  1,  1835. 

1  Thus  the  slender  space  permitted  to  the  Dramatist  does  not  allow  Miss 
Mitford  to  be  very  faithful  to  facts,  —  to  distinguish  between  Rienzi's  earlier 
and  his  later  period  of  power,  or  to  detail  the  true  but  somewhat  intricate 
causes  of  his  rise,  his  splendor,  and  his  falL 


PREFACE 
TO  THE  EDITION  OF  1848. 


FROM  the  time  of  its  first  appearance, "  RIENZI  "  has  had  the 
good  fortune  to  rank  high  amongst  my  most  popular  works, 
though  its  interest  is  rather  drawn  from  a  faithful  narration 
of  historical  facts  than  from  the  inventions  of  fancy.  And 
the  success  of  this  experiment  confirms  me  in  my  belief 
that  the  true  mode  of  employing  history  in  the  service  of 
romance  is  to  study  diligently  the  materials  as  history, 
conform  to  such  views  of  the  facts  as  the  Author  would 
adopt  if  he  related  them  in  the  dry  character  of  historian, 
and  obtain  that  warmer  interest  which  fiction  bestows,  by 
tracing  the  causes  of  the  facts  in  the  characters  and 
emotions  of  the  personages  of  the  time.  The  events  of  his 
work  are  thus  already  shaped  to  his  hand,  the  characters 
already  created ;  what  remains  for  him  is  the  inner,  not 
outer,  history  of  man,  —  the  chronicle  of  the  human  heart ; 
and  it  is  by  this  that  he  introduces  a  new  harmony  between 
character  and  event,  and  adds  the  completer  solution  of 
what  is  actual  and  true,  by  those  speculations  of  what  is 
natural  and  probable,  which  are  out  of  the  province  of 
history,  but  belong  especially  to  the  philosophy  of  romance. 
And  if  it  be  permitted  the  tale-teller  to  come  reverently  for 
instruction  in  his  art  to  the  mightiest  teacher  of  all,  who, 
whether  in  the  page  or  on  the  scene,  would  give  to  airy 
fancies  the  breath  and  the  form  of  life,  such,  we  may 
observe,  is  the  lesson  the  humblest  craftsman  in  historical 


Xil  PREFACE. 

romance  may  glean  from  the  Historical  Plays  of  Shaks- 
peare.  Necessarily,  Shakspeare  consulted  history  accord- 
ing to  the  imperfect  lights  and  from  the  popular  authorities 
of  his  age,  and  I  do  not  say,  therefore,  that  as  an  his- 
torian we  can  rely  upon  Shakspeare  as  correct.  But  to  that 
in  which  he  believed  he  rigidly  adhered ;  nor  did  he  seek, 
as  lesser  artists  (such  as  Victor  Hugo  and  his  disciples) 
seek  now,  to  turn  perforce  the  Historical  into  the  Poetical, 
but  leaving  history  as  he  found  it,  to  call  forth  from  its 
arid  prose  the  flower  of  the  latent  poem.  Nay,  even  in 
the  more  imaginative  plays  which  he  has  founded  upon 
novels  and  legends  popular  in  his  time,  it  is  curious  and 
instructive  to  see  how  little  he  has  altered  the  original 
ground-work,  —  taking  for  granted  the  main  materials  of 
the  story,  and  reserving  all  his  matchless  resources  of  wis- 
dom and  invention  to  illustrate  from  mental  analysis  the 
creations  whose  outline  he  was  content  to  borrow.  He 
receives,  as  a  literal  fact  not  to  be  altered,  the  somewhat 
incredible  assertion  of  the  novelist  that  the  pure  and 
delicate  and  high-born  Venetian  loves  the  swarthy  Moor, 
and  that  Romeo,  fresh  from  his  "  woes  for  Rosaline,"  be- 
comes suddenly  enamoured  of  Juliet :  he  found  the  Im- 
probable, and  employed  his  art  to  make  it  truthful. 

That  "  RIENZI  "  should  have  attracted  peculiar  attention 
in  Italy  is  of  course  to  be  attributed  to  the  choice  of  the 
subject  rather  than  to  the  skill  of  the  Author.  It  has  been 
translated  into  the  Italian  language  by  eminent  writers ; 
and  the  authorities  for  the  new  view  of  Rienzi's  times  and 
character  which  the  Author  deemed  himself  warranted  to 
take,  have  been  compared  with  his  text  by  careful  critics 
and  illustrious  scholars  in  those  States  in  which  the  work 
has  been  permitted  to  circulate.1  I  may  say,  I  trust  with- 
out unworthy  pride,  that  the  result  has  confirmed  the 

1  In  the  Papal  States,  I  believe,  it  was,  neither  prudently  nor  effectually, 
proscribed. 


PREFACE.  xiii 

accuracy  of  delineations  which  English  readers,  relying 
only  on  the  brilliant  but  disparaging  account  in  Gibbon, 
deemed  too  favorable,  and  has  tended  to  restore  the  great 
Tribune  to  his  long-forgotten  claims  to  the  love  and  rever- 
ence of  the  Italian  land.  Nor,  if  I  may  trust  to  the  assur- 
ances that  have  reached  me  from  many  now  engaged  in 
the  aim  of  political  regeneration,  has  the  effect  of  that  re- 
vival of  the  honors  due  to  a  national  hero,  leading  to  the 
ennobling  study  of  great  examples,  been  wholly  without 
its  influence  upon  the  rising  generation  of  Italian  youth, 
and  thereby  upon  those  stirring  events  which  have  recently 
drawn  the  eyes  of  Europe  to  the  men  and  the  lands  beyond 
the  Alps. 

In  preparing  for  the  Press  this  edition  of  a  work  illus- 
trative of  the  exertions  of  a  Roman,  in  advance  of  his 
time,  for  the  political  freedom  of  his  country,  and  of  those 
struggles  between  contending  principles  of  which  Italy  was 
the  most  stirring  field  in  the  Middle  Ages,  it  is  not  out 
of  place  or  season  to  add  a  few  sober  words,  whether  as 
a  student  of  the  Italian  past  or  as  an  observer  with  some 
experience  of  the  social  elements  of  Italy  as  it  now  exists, 
upon  the  state  of  affairs  in  that  country. 

It  is  nothing  new  to  see  the  Papal  Church  in  the  capa- 
city of  a  popular  reformer,  and  in  contra-position  to  the 
despotic  potentates  of  the  several  States,  as  well  as  to  the 
German  Emperor,  who  nominally  inherits  the  sceptre  of 
the  Caesars.  Such  was  its  common  character  under  its 
more  illustrious  Pontiffs  ;  and  the  old  Republics  of  Italy 
grew  up  under  the  shadow  of  the  Papal  throne,  harboring 
ever  two  factions,  —  the  one  for  the  Emperor,  the  other 
for  the  Pope ;  the  latter  the  more  naturally  allied  to  Italian 
independence.  On  the  modern  stage,  we  almost  see  the 
repetition  of  many  an  ancient  drama.  But  the  past  should 
teach  us  to  doubt  the  continuous  and  steadfast  progress  of 
any  single  line  of  policy  under  a  principality  so  constituted 


PREFACE. 

as  that  of  the  Papal  Church,  —  a  principality  in  which  no 
race  can  be  perpetuated,  in  which  no  objects  can  be  per- 
manent, in  which  the  successor  is  chosen  by  a  select  eccle- 
siastical synod,  under  a  variety  of  foreign  as  well  as  of 
national  influences,  in  which  the  chief  usually  ascends  the 
throne  at  an  age  that  ill  adapts  his  mind  to  the  idea 
of  human  progress  and  the  active  direction  of  mundane 
affairs ;  a  principality  in  which  the  peculiar  sanctity  that 
wraps  the  person  of  the  Sovereign  exonerates  him  from 
the  healthful  liabilities  of  a  power  purely  temporal,  and 
directly  accountable  to  Man.  A  reforming  Pope  is  a  lucky 
accident ;  and  dull  indeed  must  be  the  brain  which  believes 
in  the  possibility  of  a  long  succession  of  reforming  Popes, 
or  which  can  regard  as  other  than  precarious  and  unstable 
the  discordant  combination  of  a  constitutional  government 
with  an  infallible  head. 

It  is  as  true  as  it  is  trite  that  political  freedom  is  not 
the  growth  of  a  day ;  it  is  not  a  flower  without  a  stalk, 
and  it  must  gradually  develop  itself  amidst  the  unfolding 
leaves  of  kindred  institutions. 

In  one  respect  the  Austrian  domination,  fairly  con- 
sidered, has  been  beneficial  to  the  States  over  which  it 
has  been  directly  exercised,  and  may  be  even  said  to  have 
unconsciously  schooled  them  to  the  capacity  for  freedom. 
In  those  States  the  personal  rights  which  depend  on  im- 
partial and  incorrupt  administration  of  the  law  are  in- 
finitely more  secure  than  in  most  of  the  Courts  of  Italy. 
Bribery,  which  shamefully  predominates  in  the  judicature 
of  certain  Principalities,  is  as  unknown  in  the  juridical 
courts  of  Austrian  Italy  as  in  England.  The  Emperor 
himself  is  often  involved  in  legal  disputes  with  a  subject, 
and  justice  is  as  free  and  as  firm  for  the  humblest  suitor 
as  if  his  antagonist  were  his  equal.  Austria  indeed  but 
holds  together  the  motley  and  inharmonious  members  of 
its  vast  domain  on  either  side  the  Alps  by  a  general 


PREFACE.  XV 

character  of  paternal  mildness  and  forbearance  in  all  that 
great  circle  of  good  government  which  lies  without  the  one 
principle  of  constitutional  liberty.  It  asks  but  of  its  sub- 
jects to  submit  to  be  well  governed,  without  agitating  the 
question  "how  and  by  what  means  that  government  is 
carried  on."  For  every  man  except  the  politician,  the 
innovator,  Austria  is  no  harsh  stepmother.  But  it  is  ob- 
viously clear  that  the  better  in  other  respects  the  adminis- 
tration of  a  state,  it  does  but  foster  the  more  the  desire 
for  that  political  security  which  is  only  found  in  constitu- 
tional freedom ;  the  reverence  paid  to  personal  rights  but 
begets  the  passion  for  political ;  and  under  a  mild  despot- 
ism are  already  half  matured  the  germs  of  a  popular  con- 
stitution. But  it  is  still  a  grave  question  whether  Italy  is 
ripe  for  self-government,  and  whether,  were  it  possible  that 
the  Austrian  domination  could  be  shaken  off,  the  very  pas- 
sions so  excited,  the  very  bloodshed  so  poured  forth,  would 
not  ultimately  place  the  larger  portion  of  Italy  under  aus- 
pices less  favorable  to  the  sure  growth  of  freedom  than 
those  which  silently  brighten  under  the  sway  of  the  Ger- 
man Caesar. 

The  two  kingdoms,  at  the  opposite  extremes  of  Italy,  to 
which  circumstance  and  nature  seem  to  assign  the  main 
ascendency,  are  Naples  and  Sardinia.  Looking  to  the  for- 
mer, it  is  impossible  to  discover  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
a  country  more  adapted  for  commercial  prosperity.  Nature 
formed  it  as  the  garden  of  Europe  and  the  mart  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Its  soil  and  climate  could  unite  the  pro- 
ducts of  the  East  with  those  of  the  Western  hemisphere. 
The  rich  island  of  Sicily  should  be  the  great  corn  granary 
of  the  modern  nations  as  it  was  of  the  ancient;  the  figs, 
the  olives,  the  oranges  of  both  the  Sicilies,  under  skilful 
cultivation,  should  equal  the  produce  of  Spain  and  the 
Orient ;  and  the  harbors  of  the  kingdom  (the  keys  to  three 
quarters  of  the  globe)  should  be  crowded  with  the  sails  and 


xvi  PREFACE. 

busy  with  the  life  of  commerce.  But  in  the  character  of 
its  population  Naples  has  been  invariably  in  the  rear  of 
Italian  progress;  it  caught  but  partial  inspiration  from  the 
free  Republics,  or  even  the  wise  Tyrannies,  of  the  Middle 
Ages ;  the  theatre  of  frequent  revolutions  without  fruit ; 
and  all  rational  enthusiasm  created  by  that  insurrection 
which  has  lately  bestowed  on  Naples  the  boon  of  a  repre- 
sentative system,  cannot  but  be  tempered  by  the  conviction 
that  of  all  the  States  in  Italy,  this  is  the  one  which  least 
warrants  the  belief  of  permanence  to  political  freedom,  or 
of  capacity  to  retain  with  vigor  what  may  be  seized  by 
passion.1 

Far  otherwise  is  it  with  Sardinia.  Many  years  since,  the 
writer  of  these  pages  ventured  to  predict  that  the  time 
must  come  when  Sardinia  would  lead  the  van  of  Italian 
civilization,  and  take  proud  place  amongst  the  greater 
nations  of  Europe.  In  the  great  portion  of  this  population 
there  is  visible  the  new  blood  of  a  young  race.  It  is  not, 
as  with  other  Italian  States,  a  worn-out  stock ;  you  do  not 
see  there  a  people  fallen,  proud  of  the  past,  and  lazy  amidst 
ruins,  but  a  people  rising,  practical,  industrious,  active,  — 
there,  in  a  word,  is  an  eager  youth  to  be  formed  to  mature 

1  If  the  Electoral  Chamber  in  the  new  Neapolitan  Constitution  give  a  fair 
share  of  members  to  the  island  of  Sicily,  it  will  be  rich  in  the  inevitable  ele- 
ments of  discord,  and  nothing  save  a  wisdom  and  moderation  which  cannot 
soberly  be  anticipated,  can  prevent  the  ultimate  separation  of  the  island  from 
the  dominion  of  Naples.  Nature  has  set  the  ocean  between  the  two  countries ; 
but  differences  in  character,  and  degree  and  quality  of  civilization,  national 
jealousies,  historical  memories,  have  trebled  the  space  of  the  seas  that  roll 
between  them.  More  easy  to  unite  under  one  free  Parliament  Spain  with 
Flanders,  or  re-annex  to  England  its  old  domains  of  Aquitaine  and  Nor- 
mandy, than  to  unite  in  one  Council  Chamber,  truly  popular,  the  passions, 
interests,  and  prejudices  of  Sicily  and  Naples.  Time  will  show.  And  now, 
in  May,  1849,  Time  has  already  shown  the  impracticability  of  the  first  scheme 
proposed  for  cordial  union  between  Naples  and  Sicily,  and  has  rendered  it 
utterly  impossible,  by  mutual  recollections  of  hatred,  bequeathed  by  a  civil  war 
of  singular  barbarism,  that  Naples  should  permanently  retain  Sicily  by  any 
other  hold  than  the  brute  force  of  conquest. 


PREFACE.  xvii 

development,  not  a  decrepit  age  to  be  restored  to  bloom 
and  muscle.  Progress  is  the  great  characteristic  of  the 
Sardinian  state.  Leave  it  for  five  years,  visit  it  again,  and 
you  behold  improvement.  When  you  enter  the  kingdom 
and  find,  by  the  very  skirts  of  its  admirable  roads,  a  raised 
footpath  for  the  passengers  and  travellers  from  town  to 
town,  you  become  suddenly  aware  that  you  are  in  a  land 
where  close  attention  to  the  humbler  classes  is  within  the 
duties  of  a  government.  As  you  pass  on  from  the  more 
purely  Italian  part  of  the  population,  —  from  the  Genoese 
country  into  that  of  Piedmont, —  the  difference  between 
a  new  people  and  an  old,  on  which  I  have  dwelt,  becomes 
visible  in  the  improved  cultivation  of  the  soil,  the  better 
habitations  of  the  laborer,  the  neater  aspect  of  the  towns, 
the  greater  activity  in  the  thoroughfares.  To  the  extra- 
ordinary virtues  of  the  King,  as  King,  justice  is  scarcely 
done,  whether  in  England  or  abroad.  Certainly,  despite 
his  recent  concessions,  Charles  Albert  is  not  and  cannot 
be  at  heart  much  of  a  constitutional  reformer ;  and  his 
strong  religious  tendencies,  which,  perhaps  unjustly,  have 
procured  him  in  philosophical  quarters  the  character  of 
a  bigot,  may  link  him,  more  than  his  political,  with  the 
cause  of  the  Father  of  his  Church.  But  he  is  nobly  and 
pre-eminently  national,  careful  of  the  prosperity  and  jeal- 
ous of  the  honor  of  his  own  state,  while  conscientiously 
desirous  of  the  independence  of  Italy.  His  attention  to 
business  is  indefatigable.  Nothing  escapes  his  vigilance. 
Over  all  departments  of  the  kingdom  is  the  eye  of  a  man 
ever  anxious  to  improve.  Already  the  silk  manufactures 
of  Sardinia  almost  rival  those  of  Lyons ;  in  their  own  de- 
partments the  tradesman  of  Turin  exhibit  an  artistic  ele- 
gance and  elaborate  finish  scarcely  exceeded  in  the  wares 
of  London  and  Paris.  The  King's  internal  regulations  are 
admirable,  his  laws  administered  with  the  most  impartial 
justice ;  his  forts  and  defences  are  in  that  order  without 


xvni  PREFACE. 

which,  at  least  on  the  Continent,  no  land  is  safe ;  his  army 
is  the  most  perfect  in  Italy.  His  wise  genius  extends  itself 
to  the  elegant  as  to  the  useful  arts ;  an  encouragement  that 
shames  England,  and  even  France,  is  bestowed  upon  the 
School  for  Painters,  which  has  become  one  of  the  orna- 
ments of  his  illustrious  reign.  The  character  of  the  main 
part  of  the  population,  and  the  geographical  position  of 
his  country,  assist  the  monarch,  and  must  force  on  himself 
or  his  successors  in  the  career  of  improvement  so  signally 
begun.  In  the  character  of  the  people,  the  vigor  of  the 
Northman  ennobles  the  ardor  and  fancy  of  the  West.  In 


the  position  of  the  country,  the  public  mind  is  brought  into 
constant  communication  with  the  new  ideas  in  the  free 
lands  of  Europe.  Civilization  sets  in  direct  currents  towards 
the  streets  and  marts  of  Turin.  Whatever  the  result  oi 
the  present  crisis  in  Italy,  no  power  and  no  chance  which 
statesmen  can  predict  can  preclude  Sardinia  from  ulti- 
mately heading  all  that  is  best  in  Italy.  The  King  may 
improve  his  present  position;  or  peculiar  prejudices,  in- 
separable perhaps  from  the  heritage  of  absolute  monarchy, 
and  which  the  raw  and  rude  councils  of  an  Electoral 
Chamber,  newly  called  into  life,  must  often  irritate  and 
alarm,  may  check  his  own  progress  towards  the  master 
throne  of  the  Ausonian  land.  But  the  people  themselves, 
sooner  or  later,  will  do  the  work  of  the  King.  And  in 
now  looking  round  Italy  for  a  race  worthy  of  Rienzi,  and 
able  to  accomplish  his  proud  dreams,  I  see  but  one  for 
which  the  time  is  ripe  or  ripening,  and  I  place  the  hopes 
of  Italy  in  the  men  of  Piedmont  and  Sardinia. 

LONDON,  February  14,  1848. 


CONTENTS. 


)3oo&   I. 

THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE,   AND  THE  MEN. 
CHAPTER  I. 

Page 
The  Brothers 1 

CHAPTER    II. 

An  Historical  Survey,  not  to  be  passed  over,  except  by  those  who  dislike 

to  understand  what  they  read 13 

CHAPTER    III. 
The  Brawl 18 

CHAPTER    IV. 
An  Adventure 27 

CHAPTER    V. 
The  Description  of  a  Conspirator,  and  the  Dawn  of  the  Conspiracy  .    .      41 

CHAPTER   VI. 
Irene  in  the  Palace  of  Adrian  de  Castello 52 

CHAPTER    VII. 
Upon  Love  and  Lovers 57 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
The  Enthusiastic  Man  judged  by  the  Discreet  Man 60 

CHAPTER    IX. 

"  When  the  People  saw  this  Picture,  every  one  marvelled  " 64 


U  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Page 
A  Rough  Spirit  raised,  which  may  hereafter  rend  the  Wizard  ....      68 

CHAPTER  XL 
Nina  di  Raselli 73 

CHAPTER  XII 

The  Strange  Adventures  that  befell  Walter  de  Montreal 81 


II. 

THE  REVOLUTION. 

CHAPTER  L 
The  Knight  of  Provence,  and  his  Proposal 89 

CHAPTER   IL 
The  Interview,  and  the  Doubt 102 

CHAPTER   m. 

The  Situation  of  a  Popular  Patrician  in  Times  of  Popular  Discontent.  — 

Scene  of  the  Lateran 107 

CHAPTER    IV. 
The  Ambitions  Citizen,  and  the  Ambitions  Soldier 124 

CHAPTER    V. 
The  Procession  of  the  Barons. — The  Beginning  of  the  End     ....    136 

CHAPTER    VI. 

The  Conspirator  becomes  the  Magistrate 139 

CHAPTER    VII. 
Looking  after  the  Halter  when  the  Mare  is  stolen 143 

CHAPTER    VUL 

The  Attack.  —  The  Retreat.  —  The  Election.  —  And  the  Adhesion    .    .    145 


CONTENTS.  xxi 


III. 
THE  FREEDOM  WITHOUT  LAW. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Page 
The  Return  of  Walter  de  Montreal  to  his  Fortress  ........    154 

CHARTER  II. 

The  Life  of  Love  and  War.  —  The  Messenger  of  Peace.  —  The  Joust    .    159 

CHAPTER   III. 

The  Conversation  between  the  Roman  and  the  Provenfal.  —  Adeline's  History. 
—  The  Moon-lit  Sea.  —  The  Lute  and  the  Song     .......    177 


315oofe  IV. 

THE  TRIUMPH  AND  THE  POMP. 

CHAPTER  I. 
The  Boy  Angelo. — The  Dream  of  Nina  fulfilled 191 

CHAPTER    II. 

The  Blessing  of  a  Councillor  whose  Interests  and  Heart  are  our  own.  — 
The  Straws  thrown  upward.  —  Do  they  portend  a  Storm  1       ...    205 

CHAPTER    IIL 
The  Actor  unmasked 218 

CHAPTER    IV. 
The  Enemy's  Camp 224 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Night  and  its  Incidents 228 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Celebrated  Citation 238 

CHAPTER   VIL 

The  Festival    .  .    242 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 
VOL.  I. 


PAGE 

ROMAN  FORUM  —  GENERAL  VIEW Frontispiece 

INTERIOR  OF  ST.  PAUL'S,  WITHOUT  THE  WALLS 17 

THE  CAPITOL — STATUES  OF  CASTOR  AND  POLLUX 26 

INTERIOR  OF  THE  COLONNA  PALACE 41 

THE  FORUM  —  TEMPLE  OF  CASTOR  AND  POLLUX 61 

TARPEIAN  ROCK 72 

THE  CUM^SAN  SIBYL 77 

THE  COLOSSEUM 81 

THEATRE  OF  MARCELLUS,  PIAZZA  MONTANARA 90 

TRIUMPHAL  ARCH  OF  SEPTIMUS  SEVERUS 103 

ST.  JOHN  OF  LATERAN 110 

INTERIOR  OF  ST.  JOHN  OF  LATERAN 113 

THE  BALDACCHINO,  HIGH  ALTAU,  AND  CONFESSIO,  CHURCH  OF 

ST.  PETER 121 

AQUEDUCT  OF  CLAUDIUS  —  THE  CAMPAGNA 125 

HOUSE  OF  COLA  DI  RIENZI 129 

TEMPLE  OF  FORTUNA  VIRILIS 130 

VlEW  OF  THE  PRESENT  CAPITOL 149 

GATE  OF  ST.  SEBASTIAN 154 

TOMB  OF  CECILIA  MATELLA  —  APPIAN  WAY 157 

THE  ARCH  OF  CONSTANTINE 169 

THE  CAMPAGNA,  SHOWING  RUINED  ARCHES  OF  THE  AQUEDUCT  OF 

CLAUDIUS 190 

PIAZZA  DEL  POPOLO 205 

CLOISTER  OF  ST.  JOHN  OF  LATERAN 224 

PIAZZA  OF  ST.  JOHN  OF  LATERAN  AND  THE  LATERAN  PALACE  .  230 
EQUESTRIAN  STATUE  OF  MARCUS  AURELIUS  IN  THE  PIAZZA  DEL 

CAMPIDOGLIO.    It  stood  until  1538  in  the  Piazza  of  the  Lateran, 

and  was  supposed  to  be  a  statue  of  the  Emperor  Constantino  .    .  242 


RIENZI : 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES. 


BOOK    I. 
THE  TIME,  THE  PLACE,  AND  THE  MEN. 

Fcr  da  sua  gioventudine  nutricato  di  latte  di  eloquenza,  buono  grammatico, 
megliore  rettorico,  autorista  buouo.  .  .  .  Oh,  come  spesso  diceva,  "  Dove  sono 
questi  buoni  Romani?  Dov'e  loro  somma  giustizia?  Poterommi  trovare  in 
tempo  che  questi  fioriscano?  "  Era  bell  'omo.  .  .  .  Accadde  che  uno  suo  frate 
f u  ucciso  e  non  ne  f u  fatta  vendetta  di  sua  morte ;  non  lo  poteo  aiutare ;  pensa 
lungo  mano  vendicare  '1  sangue  di  suo  frate ;  pensa  lunga  mano  dirizzare  la 
cittate  di  Roma  male  guidata. —  Vita  di  Cola  di  Rienzi  (ed.  1828).  Forli. 

From  his  youth  he  was  nourished  with  the  milk  of  eloquence;  a  good 
grammarian,  a  better  rhetorician,  well  versed  in  the  writings  of  authors.  .  .  . 
Oh,  how  often  would  he  say,  "  Where  are  those  good  Romans?  Where  is 
their  supreme  justice?  Shall  I  ever  behold  such  times  as  those  in  which  they 
nourished?  "  He  was  a  handsome  man.  ...  It  happened  that  a  brother  of  his 
was  slain,  and  no  retribution  was  made  for  his  death :  he  could  not  help  him  ; 
long  did  he  ponder  how  to  avenge  his  brother's  blood ;  long  did  he  ponder 
how  to  direct  the  misguided  state  of  Rome.  —  Life  of  Cola  di  Rienzi. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    BROTHERS. 

THE  celebrated  name  which  forms  the  title  to  this  work  will 
sufficiently  apprise  the  reader  that  it  is  in  the  earlier  half  of 
the  fourteenth  century  that  my  story  opens. 

It  was  on  a  summer  evening  that  two  youths  might  be  seen 
walking  beside  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  not  far  from  that  part 
of  its  winding  course  which  sweeps  by  the  base  of  Mount  Aven- 
tine.  The  path  they  had  selected  was  remote  and  tranquil. 

VOL.    I.  —  1 


2  RIENZI : 

It  was  only  at  a  distance  that  were  seen  the  scattered  and 
squalid  houses  that  bordered  the  river,  from  amidst  which 
rose,  dark  and  frequent,  the  high  roof  and  enormous  towers 
which  marked  the  fortified  mansion  of  some  Roman  baron- 
On  one  side  of  the  river,  behind  the  cottages  of  the  fishermen, 
soared  Mount  Janiculum,  dark  with  massive  foliage,  from 
which  gleamed  at  frequent  intervals  the  gray  walls  of  many 
a  castellated  palace,  and  the  spires  and  columns  of  a  hundred 
churches ;  on  the  other  side,  the  deserted  Aventine  rose  abrupt 
and  steep,  covered  with  thick  brushwood ;  while  on  the  height, 
from  concealed  but  numerous  convents,  rolled,  not  unmusically, 
along  the  quiet  landscape  and  the  rippling  waves,  the  sound 
of  the  holy  bell. 

Of  the  young  men  introduced  in  this  scene,  the  elder,  who 
might  have  somewhat  passed  his  twentieth  year,  was  of  a  tall 
and  even  commanding  stature ;  and  there  was  that  in  his 
presence  remarkable  and  almost  noble,  despite  the  homeliness 
of  his  garb,  which  consisted  of  the  long,  loose  gown  and  the 
plain  tunic,  both  of  dark-gray  serge,  which  distinguished,  at 
that  time,  the  dress  of  the  humbler  scholars  who  frequented 
the  monasteries  for  such  rude  knowledge  as  then  yielded  a 
scanty  return  for  intense  toil.  His  countenance  was  hand- 
some, and  would  have  been  rather  gay  than  thoughtful  in  its 
expression,  but  for  that  vague  and  abstracted  dreaminess  of 
eye  which  so  usually  denotes  a  propensity  to  revery  and  con- 
templation, and  betrays  that  the  past  or  the  future  is  more 
congenial  to  the  mind  than  the  enjoyment  and  action  of  the 
present  hour. 

The  younger,  who  was  yet  a  boy,  had  nothing  striking  in 
his  appearance  or  countenance,  unless  an  expression  of  great 
sweetness  and  gentleness  could  be  so  called;  and  there  was 
something  almost  feminine  in  the  tender  deference  with  which 
he  appeared  to  listen  to  his  companion.  His  dress  was  that 
usually  worn  by  the  humbler  classes,  though  somewhat  neater, 
perhaps,  and  newer ;  and  the  fond  vanity  of  a  mother  might 
be  detected  in  the  care  with  which  the  long  and  silky  ringlets 
had  been  smoothed  and  parted  as  they  escaped  from  his  cap 
and  flowed  midway  down  his  shoulders. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  3 

As  they  thus  sauntered  on  beside  the  whispering  reeds  of 
the  river,  each  with  his  arm  round  the  form  of  his  comrade, 
there  was  a  grace  in  the  bearing,  in  the  youth,  and  in  the  evi- 
dent affection  of  the  brothers  —  for  such  their  connection  — 
which  elevated  the  lowliness  of  their  apparent  condition. 

"Dear  brother,"  said  the  elder,  "I  cannot  express  to  thee 
how  I  enjoy  these  evening  hours.  To  you  alone  I  feel  as  if  I 
were  not  a  mere  visionary  and  idler  when  I  talk  of  the  uncer- 
tain future,  and  build  up  my  palaces  of  the  air.  Our  parents 
listen  to  me  as  if  I  were  uttering  fine  things  out  of  a  book ; 
and  my  dear  mother  —  Heaven  bless  her !  —  wipes  her  eyes 
and  says,  '  Hark,  what  a  scholar  he  is ! '  As  for  the  monks,  if 
I  ever  dare  look  from  my  Livy  and  cry,  '  Thus  should  Rome 
be  again!'  they  stare  and  gape  and  frown,  as  though  I  had 
broached  an  heresy.  But  you,  sweet  brother,  though  you 
share  not  my  studies,  sympathize  so  kindly  with  all  their 
results  —  you  seem  so  to  approve  my  wild  schemes,  and  to 
encourage  my  ambitious  hopes  —  that  sometimes  I  forget  our 
birth,  our  fortunes,  and  think  and  dare  as  if  no  blood  save  that 
of  the  Teuton  Emperor  flowed  through  our  veins." 

"Methinks,  dear  Cola,"  said  the  younger  brother,  "that 
Nature  played  us  an  unfair  trick :  to  you  she  transmitted  the 
royal  soul,  derived  from  our  father's  parentage ;  and  to  me  only 
the  quiet  and  lowly  spirit  of  my  mother's  humble  lineage." 

"  Nay,"  answered  Cola,  quickly,  "  you  would  then  have  the 
brighter  share;  for  I  should  have  but  the  Barbarian  origin, 
and  you  the  Roman.  Time  was  when  to  be  a  simple  Roman 
was  to  be  nobler  than  a  northern  king.  Well,  well,  we  may 
live  to  see  great  changes ! " 

"  I  shall  live  to  see  thee  a  great  man,  and  that  will  content 
me,"  said  the  younger,  smiling  affectionately.  "  A  great  scholar 
all  confess  you  to  be  already;  our  mother  predicts  your  for- 
tunes every  time  she  hears  of  your  welcome  visits  to  the 
Colonna." 

"The  Colonna!"  said  Cola,  with  a  bitter  smile;  "the  Co- 
lonna, —  the  pedants !  They  affect,  dull  souls,  the  knowledge 
of  the  past,  play  the  patron,  and  misquote  Latin  over  their 
cups !  They  are  pleased  to  welcome  me  at  their  board  be- 


4  RIENZI : 

cause  the  Roman  doctors  call  me  learned,  and  because  Nature 
gave  me  a  wild  wit,  which  to  them  is  pleasanter  than  the  stale 
jests  of  a  hired  buffoon.  Yes,  they  would  advance  my  for- 
tunes :  but  how  ?  By  some  place  in  the  public  offices,  which 
would  fill  a  dishonored  coffer;  by  wringing,  yet  more  sternly, 
the  hard-earned  coins  from  our  famishing  citizens !  If  there 
be  a  vile  thing  in  the  world,  it  is  a  plebeian  advanced  by  patri- 
cians, not  for  the  purpose  of  righting  his  own  order,  but  for 
playing  the  pander  to  the  worst  interests  of  theirs.  He  who 
is  of  the  people  but  makes  himself  a  traitor  to  his  birth  if  he 
furnishes  the  excuse  for  these  tyrant  hypocrites  to  lift  up  their 
hands  and  cry :  '  See  what  liberty  exists  in  Koine  when  we,  the 
patricians,  thus  elevate  a  plebeian!'  Did  they  ever  elevate 
a  plebeian  if  he  sympathized  with  plebeians?  No,  brother; 
should  I  be  lifted  above  our  condition,  I  will  be  raised  by  the 
arms  of  my  countrymen,  and  not  upon  their  necks." 

"  All  I  hope  is,  Cola,  that  you  will  not,  in  your  zeal  for  your 
fellow-citizens,  forget  how  dear  you  are  to  us.  No  greatness 
could  ever  reconcile  me  to  the  thought  that  it  brought  you 
danger." 

"  And  /  could  laugh  at  all  danger  if  it  led  to  greatness.  But 
greatness,  greatness !  Vain  dream !  Let  us  keep  it  for  our 
night  sleep.  Enough  of  my  plans;  now,  dearest  brother,  of 
yours."  And  with  the  sanguine  and  cheerful  elasticity  which 
belonged  to  him,  the  young  Cola,  dismissing  all  wilder  thoughts, 
bent  his  mind  to  listen  and  to  enter  into  the  humbler  projects 
of  his  brother.  The  new  boat  and  the  holiday  dress,  and  the 
cot  removed  to  a  quarter  more  secure  from  the  oppression  of 
the  barons,  and  such  distant  pictures  of  love  as  a  dark  eye  and 
a  merry  lip  conjure  up  to  the  vague  sentiments  of  a  boy ;  to 
schemes  and  aspirations  of  which  such  objects  made  the  limit, 
—  did  the  scholar  listen,  with  a  relaxed  brow  and  a  tender  smile ; 
and  often,  in  later  life,  did  that  conversation  occur  to  him 
when  he  shrank  from  asking  his  own  heart  which  ambition 
was  the  wiser. 

"  And  then,"  continued  the  younger  brother,  "  by  degrees  I 
might  save  enough  to  purchase  such  a  vessel  as  that  which  we 
now  see,  laden,  doubtless,  with  corn  and  merchandise,  bring- 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  5 

ing,  oh  such,  a  good  return,  that  I  could  fill  your  room  with 
books,  and  never  hear  you  complain  that  you  were  not  rich 
enough  to  purchase  some  crumbling  old  monkish  manuscript. 
Ah,  that  would  make  me  so  happy ! " 

Cola  smiled  as  he  pressed  his  brother  closer  to  his  breast. 
"Dear  boy,"  said  he,  "may  it  rather  be  mine  to  provide  for 
your  wishes !  Yet  methinks  the  masters  of  yon  vessel  have 
no  enviable  possession ;  see  how  anxiously  the  men  look  round 
and  behind  and  before !  Peaceful  traders  though  they  be, 
they  fear,  it  seems,  even  in  this  city  (once  the  emporium  of 
the  civilized  world),  some  pirate  in  pursuit ;  and  ere  the  voyage 
be  over,  they  may  find  that  pirate  in  a  Eoman  noble.  Alas,  to 
what  are  we  reduced ! " 

The  vessel  thus  referred  to  was  speeding  rapidly  down  the 
river,  and  some  three  or  four  armed  men  on  deck  were  indeed 
intently  surveying  the  quiet  banks  on  either  side,  as  if  antici- 
pating a  foe.  The  bark  soon,  however,  glided  out  of  sight, 
and  the  brothers  fell  back  upon  those  themes  which  require 
only  the  future  for  a  text  to  become  attractive  to  the  young. 

At  length,  as  the  evening  darkened,  they  remembered  that  it 
was  past  the  usual  hour  in  which  they  returned  home,  and  they 
began  to  retrace  their  steps. 

"  Stay  ! "  said  Cola,  abruptly.  "  How  our  talk  has  beguiled 
me !  Father  Uberto  promised  me  a  rare  manuscript,  which 
the  good  friar  confesses  hath  puzzled  the  whole  convent.  I 
was  to  seek  his  cell  for  it  this  evening.  Tarry  here  a  few 
minutes;  it  is  but  half-way  up  the  Aventine.  I  shall  soon 
return." 

"  Can  I  not  accompany  you  ?  " 

"  Nay,"  returned  Cola,  with  considerate  kindness,  "  you  have 
borne  toil  all  the  day,  and  must  be  wearied;  my  labors  —  of 
the  body,  at  least  —  have  been  light  enough.  You  are  delicate, 
too,  and  seem  fatigued  already :  the  rest  will  refresh  you.  I 
shall  not  be  long." 

The  boy  acquiesced,  though  he  rather  wished  to  accompany 
his  brother ;  but  he  was  of  a  meek  and  yielding  temper,  and 
seldom  resisted  the  lightest  command  of  those  he  loved.  He 
sat  him  down  on  a  little  bank  by  the  river-side,  and  the  firm 


6  RIENZI : 

step  and  towering  form  of  his  brother  were  soon  hid  from  his 
gaze  by  the  thick  and  melancholy  foliage. 

At  first  he  sat  very  quietly,  enjoying  the  cool  air,  and  think- 
ing over  all  the  stories  of  ancient  Rome  that  his  brother  had 
told  him  in  their  walk.  At  length  he  recollected  that  his  little 
sister  Irene  had  begged  him  to  bring  her  home  some  flowers ; 
and  gathering  such  as  he  could  find  at  hand  (and  many  a 
flower  grew,  wild  and  clustering,  over  that  desolate  spot), 
he  again  seated  himself,  and  began  weaving  them  into  one 
of  those  garlands  for  which  the  Southern  peasantry  still 
retain  their  ancient  affection,  and  something  of  their  classic 
skill. 

\Yhile  the  boy  was  thus  engaged,  the  tramp  of  horses  and 
the  loud  shouting  of  men  were  heard  at  a  distance.  They 
came  near,  and  nearer. 

"  Some  baron's  procession,  perhaps,  returning  from  a  feast," 
thought  the  boy.  "It  will  be  a  pretty  sight,  their  white 
plumes  and  scarlet  mantles !  I  love  to  see  such  sights,  but  I 
will  just  move  out  of  their  way." 

So,  still  mechanically  platting  his  garland,  but  with  eyes 
turned  towards  the  quarter  of  the  expected  procession,  the 
young  Roman  moved  yet  nearer  towards  the  river. 

Presently  the  train  came  in  view,  —  a  gallant  company,  in 
truth :  horsemen  in  front,  riding  two  abreast,  where  the  path 
permitted,  their  steeds  caparisoned  superbly,  their  plumes 
waving  gayly,  and  the  gleam  of  their  corselets  glittering 
through  the  shades  of  the  dusky  twilight.  A  large  and  mis- 
cellaneous crowd,  all  armed,  some  with  pikes  and  mail,  others 
with  less  warlike  or  worse-fashioned  weapons,  followed  the 
cavaliers ;  and  high  above  plume  and  pike  floated  the  blood-red 
banner  of  the  Orsini,  with  the  motto  and  device  (in  which  was 
ostentatiously  displayed  the  Guelphic  badge  of  the  keys  of  St. 
Peter)  wrought  in  burnished  gold.  A  momentary  fear  crossed 
the  boy's  mind,  for  at  that  time  and  in  that  city  a  nobleman 
begirt  with  his  swordsmen  was  more  dreaded  than  a  wild  beast 
by  the  plebeians ;  but  it  was  already  too  late  to  fly,  the  train 
were  upon  him. 

"  Ho,  boy ! "  cried  the  leader  of  the  horsemen,  Martino  di 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  7 

Porto,  one  of  the  great  house  of  the  Orsini,  "  hast  thou  seen  a 
boat  pass  up  the  river?  But  thou  must  have  seen  it:  how 
long  since  ?  " 

"  I  saw  a  large  boat  about  half  an  hour  ago,"  answered  the 
boy,  terrified  by  the  rough  voice  and  imperious  bearing  of  the 
cavalier. 

"  Sailing  right  ahead,  with  a  green  flag  at  the  stern  ?  " 

"  The  same,  noble  sir." 

"  On,  then !  We  will  stop  her  course  ere  the  moon  rise," 
said  the  baron.  "  On !  Let  the  boy  go  with  us,  lest  he  prove 
traitor  and  alarm  the  Colonna." 

"  An  Orsini,  an  Orsini ! "  shouted  the  multitude ;  "  on,  on ! " 
and  despite  the  prayers  and  remonstrances  of  the  boy,  he  was 
placed  in  the  thickest  of  the  crowd,  and  borne,  or  rather 
dragged,  along  with  the  rest,  —  frightened,  breathless,  almost 
weeping,  with  his  poor  little  garland  still  hanging  on  his  arm, 
while  a  sling  was  thrust  into  his  -unwilling  hand.  Still  he  felt, 
through  all  his  alarm,  a  kind  of  childish  curiosity  to  see  the 
result  of  the  pursuit. 

By  the  loud  and  eager  conversation  of  those  about  him  he 
learned  that  the  vessel  he  had  seen  contained  a  supply  of  corn 
destined  to  a  fortress  up  the  river  held  by  the  Colonna.,  then  at 
deadly  feud  with  the  Orsini;  and  it  was  the  object  of  the 
expedition  in  which  the  boy  had  been  thus  lucklessly  entrained 
to  intercept  the  provision  and  divert  it  to  the  garrison  of 
Martino  di  Porto.  This  news  somewhat  increased  his  con- 
sternation, for  the  boy  belonged  to  a  family  that  claimed  the 
patronage  of  the  Colonna. 

Anxiously  and  tearfully  he  looked  with  every  moment  up 
the  steep  ascent  of  the  Aventine ;  but  his  guardian,  his  protec- 
tor, still  delayed  his  appearance. 

They  had  now  proceeded  some  way,  when  a  winding  in  the 
road  brought  suddenly  before  them  the  object  of  their  pursuit, 
as,  seen  by  the  light  of  the  earliest  stars,  it  scudded  rapidly 
down  the  stream. 

"Now,  the  saints  be  blest!"  quoth  the  chief,  "she  is 
ours ! " 

"  Hold ! "  said  a  captain  (a  German)  riding  next  to  Martino, 


8  RIENZI : 

in  a  half  whisper.  "I  hear  sounds  which  I  like  not,  by  yon- 
der trees  —  hark!  the  neigh  of  a  horse!  By  my  faith,  too, 
there  is  the  gleam  of  a  corselet!" 

"  Push  on,  my  masters ! "  cried  Martino.  "  The  heron  shall 
not  balk  the  eagle ;  push  on ! " 

With  renewed  shouts,  those  on  foot  pushed  forward  till,  as 
they  had  nearly  gained  the  copse  referred  to  by  the  German,  a 
small  compact  body  of  horsemen,  armed  cap-a-pie,  dashed  from 
amidst  the  trees,  and  with  spears  in  their  rests  charged  into 
the  ranks  of  the  pursuers. 

"  A  Colonna !  a  Colonna ! "  "  An  Orsini !  an  Orsini ! "  were 
shouts  loudly  and  fiercely  interchanged.  Martino  di  Porto,  a 
man  of  great  bulk  and  ferocity,  and  his  cavaliers,  who  were 
chiefly  German  mercenaries,  met  the  encounter  unshaken. 
"  Beware  the  bear's  hug,"  cried  the  Orsini,  as  down  went  his 
antagonist,  rider  and  steed,  before  his  lance. 

The  contest  was  short  and  fierce ;  the  complete  armor  of  the 
horsemen  protected  them  on  either  side  from  wounds.  Not  so 
unscathed  fared  the  half-armed  foot-followers  of  the  Orsini  as 
they  pressed,  each  pushed  on  by  the  other,  against  the  Colonna. 
After  a  shower  of  stones  and  darts,  which  fell  but  as  hailstones 
against  the  thick  mail  of  the  horsemen,  they  closed  in,  and  by 
their  number  obstructed  the  movements  of  the  steeds,  while 
the  spear,  sword,  and  battle-axe  of  their  opponents  made  ruth- 
less havoc  amongst  their  undisciplined  ranks.  And  Martino, 
who  cared  little  how  many  of  his  mere  mob  were  butchered, 
seeing  that  his  foes  were  for  the  moment  embarrassed  by  the 
wild  rush  and  gathering  circle  of  his  foot  train  (for  the  place 
of  conflict,  though  wider  than  the  previous  road,  was  confined 
and  narrow),  made  a  sign  to  some  of  his  horsemen,  and  was 
about  to  ride  forward  towards  the  boat,  now  nearly  out  of  sight, 
when  a  bugle  at  some  distance  was  answered  by  one  of  his 
enemy  at  hand,  and  the  shout  of  "Colonna  to  the  rescue!" 
was  echoed  afar  off.  A  few  moments  brought  in  view  a  num- 
erous train  of  horse  at  full  speed,  with  the  banners  of  the 
Colonna  waving  gallantly  in  the  front. 

"  A  plague  on  the  wizards  !  who  would  have  imagined  they 
had  divined  us  so  craftily  ?  "  muttered  Martino.  "  We  must 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  9 

not  abide  these  odds ; "  and  the  hand  he  had  first  raised  for 
advance  now  gave  the  signal  of  retreat. 

Serried  breast  to  breast  and  in  complete  order,  the  horsemen 
of  Martino  turned  to  fly ;  the  foot  rabble  who  had  come  for 
spoil  remained  but  for  slaughter.  They  endeavored  to  imitate 
their  leaders  ;  but  how  could  they  all  elude  the  rushing  charg- 
ers and  sharp  lances  of  their  antagonists,  whose  blood  was 
heated  by  the  affray,  and  who  regarded  the  lives  at  their  mercy 
as  a  boy  regards  the  wasp's  nest  he  destroys.  The  crowd  dis- 
persed in  all  directions,  —  some,  indeed,  escaped  up  the  hills, 
where  the  footing  was  impracticable  to  the  horses ;  some 
plunged  into  the  river  and  swam  across  to  the  opposite  bank  ; 
those  less  cool  or  experienced,  who  fled  right  onwards,  served, 
by  clogging  the  way  of  their  enemy,  to  facilitate  the  flight  of 
their  leaders,  but  fell  themselves,  corpse  upon  corpse,  butchered 
in  the  unrelenting  and  unresisted  pursuit. 

"  No  quarter  to  the  ruffians !  Every  Orsini  slain  is  a  robber 
the  less!  Strike  for  God,  the  Emperor,  and  the  Colonna!" 
Such  were  the  shouts  which  rang  the  knell  of  the  dismayed 
and  falling  fugitives.  Among  those  who  fled  onward,  in  the 
very  path  most  accessible  to  the  cavalry,  was  the  young 
brother  of  Cola,  so  innocently  mixed  with  the  affray.  Fast  he 
fled,  dizzy  with  terror,  poor  boy,  scarce  before  ever  parted 
from  his  parents'  or  his  brother's  side !  The  trees  glided  past 
him,  the  banks  receded;  on  he  sped,  and  fast  behind  came 
the  tramp  of  the  hoofs,  the  shouts,  the  curses,  the  fierce 
laughter  of  the  foe  as  they  bounded  over  the  dead  and  the 
dying  in  their  path.  He  was  now  at  the  spot  in  which  his 
brother  had  left  him.  Hastily  he  glanced  behind,  and  saw 
the  couched  lance  and  horrent  crest  of  the  horseman  close  at 
his  rear ;  despairingly  he  looked  up,  and  behold !  his  brother 
bursting  through  the  tangled  brakes  that  clothed  the  mountain, 
and  bounding  to  his  succor. 

"  Save  me,  save  me,  brother ! "  he  shrieked  aloud,  and  the 
shriek  reached  Cola's  ear.  The  snort  of  the  fiery  charger 
breathed  hot  upon  him ;  a  moment  more,  and  with  one  wild, 
shrill  cry  of  "  Mercy,  mercy ! "  he  fell  to  the  ground  —  a  corpse, 
the  lance  of  the  pursuer  passing  through  and  through  him, 


10  11IKNXI  : 

from  back  to  breast,  and  nailing  him  on  the  very  sod  where 
he  had  sat,  full  of  young  life  and  careless  hope,  not  an 
hour  ago. 

The  horseman  plucked  forth  his  spear,  and  passed  on  in 
pursuit  of  new  victims,  his  comrades  following.  Cola  had 
descended,  was  on  the  spot,  kneeling  by  his  murdered  brother. 
Presently,  to  the  sound  of  horn  and  trumpet,  came  by  a  nobler 
company  than  most  of  those  hitherto  engaged,  who  had  been, 
indeed,  but  the  advance-guard  of  the  Colonna.  At  their  head 
rode  a  man  in  years,  whose  long  white  hair  escaped  from  his 
plumed  cap  and  mingled  with  his  venerable  beard.  "  How  is 
this  ?  "  said  the  chief,  reining  in  his  steed.  "  Young  Kienzi ! " 

The  youth  looked  up  as  he  heard  that  voice,  and  then  flung 
himself  before  the  steed  of  the  old  noble,  and,  clasping  his 
hands,  cried  out  in  a  scarce  articulate  tone :  "  It  is  my  brother, 
noble  Stephen,  —  a  boy,  a  mere  child ;  the  best,  the  mildest ! 
See  how  his  blood  dabbles  the  grass !  Back,  back,  your  horse's 
hoofs  are  in  the  stream !  Justice,  my  lord,  justice !  You  are 
a  great  man." 

"  Who  slew  him  ?  An  Orsini,  doubtless ;  you  shall  have 
justice." 

"  Thanks,  thanks ! "  murmured  Eienzi,  as  he  tottered  once 
more  to  his  brother's  side,  turned  the  boy's  face  from  the  grass, 
and  strove  wildly  to  feel  the  pulse  of  his  heart ;  he  drew  back 
his  hand  hastily,  for  it  was  crimsoned  with  blood,  and  lifting 
that  hand  on  high,  shrieked  out  again,  "Justice !  justice ! " 

The  group  round  the  old  Stephen  Colonna,  hardened  as  they 
were  in  such  scenes,  were  affected  by  the  sight.  A  handsome 
boy,  whose  tears  ran  fast  down  his  cheeks,  and  who  rode  his 
palfrey  close  by  the  side  of  the  Colonna,  drew  forth  his  sword. 
"  My  lord,"  said  he,  half  sobbing,  "  an  Orsini  only  could  have 
butchered  a  harmless  lad  like  this.  Let  us  lose  not  a  moment ; 
let  us  on  after  the  ruffians." 

"  No,  Adrian,  no ! "  cried  Stephen,  laying  his  hand  on  the 
boy's  shoulder.  "  Your  zeal  is  to  be  lauded,  but  we  must  be- 
ware an  ambush.  Our  men  have  ventured  too  far.  What  ho, 
there !  Sound  a  return ! " 

The  bugles  in  a  few  minutes  brought  back  the  pursuers, 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUTES.  11 

among  them  the  horseman  whose  spear  had  been  so  fatally  mis- 
used. He  was  the  leader  of  those  engaged  in  the  conflict  with 
Martino  di  Porto,  and  the  gold  wrought  into  his  armor,  with 
the  gorgeous  trappings  of  his  charger,  betokened  his  rank. 

"Thanks,  my  son,  thanks,"  said  the  old  Colonna  to  this 
cavalier;  "you  have  done  well  and  bravely.  But  tell  me, 
knowest  thou  —  for  thou  hast  an  eagle  eye  —  which  of  the 
Orsini  slew  this  poor  boy  ?  A  foul  deed ;  his  family,  too, 
our  clients ! " 

"  Who,  —  yon  lad  ?  "  replied  the  horseman,  lifting  the  hel- 
met from  his  head  and  wiping  his  heated  brow.  "  Say  you 
so  ?  How  came  he,  then,  with  Martino's  rascals  ?  I  fear 
me  the  mistake  hath  cost  him  dear.  I  could  but  suppose  him 
of  the  Orsini  rabble,  and  so  —  and  so  —  " 

"  You  slew  him ! "  cried  Kienzi,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  start- 
ing from  the  ground.  "Justice,  then,  my  Lord  Stephen; 
justice !  You  promised  me  justice,  and  I  will  have  it ! " 

"My  poor  youth,"  said  the  old  man,  compassionately,  "you 
should  have  had  justice  against  the  Orsini ;  but  see  you  not 
this  has  been  an  error  ?  I  do  not  wonder  you  are  too  grieved 
to  listen  to  reason  now.  We  must  make  this  up  to  you." 

"  And  let  this  pay  for  masses  for  the  boy's  soul ;  I  grieve 
me  much  for  the  accident,"  said  the  younger  Colonna,  flinging 
down  a  purse  of  gold.  "  Ay,  see  us  at  the  palace  next  week, 
young  Cola,  —  next  week!  My  father,  we  had  best  return 
towards  the  boat;  its  safeguard  may  require  us  yet." 

"  Eight,  Gianni !  Stay,  some  two  of  you,  and  see  to  the  poor 
lad's  corpse.  A  grievous  accident ;  how  could  it  chance  ?  " 

The  company  passed  back  the  way  they  came,  two  of  the 
common  soldiers  alone  remaining,  except  the  boy  Adrian,  who 
lingered  behind  a  few  moments,  striving  to  console  Rienzi, 
who,  as  one  bereft  of  sense,  remained  motionless,  gazing  on 
the  proud  array  as  it  swept  along,  and  muttering  to  himself, 
"  Justice,  justice !  I  will  have  it  yet." 

The  loud  voice  of  the  elder  Colonna  summoned  Adrian, 
reluctantly  and  weeping,  away.  "Let  me  be  your  brother," 
said  the  gallant  boy,  affectionately  pressing  the  scholar's  hand 
to  his  heart ;  "  I  want  a  brother  like  you." 


12  RIENZI : 

Rienzi  made  no  reply,  he  did  not  heed  or  hear  him ;  dark 
and  stern  thoughts,  thoughts  in  which  were  the  germ  of  a 
mighty  revolution,  were  at  his  heart.  He  woke  from  them 
with  a  start,  as  the  soldiers  were  now  arranging  their  bucklers 
so  as  to  make  a  kind  of  bier  for  the  corpse,  and  then  burst 
into  tears  as  he  fiercely  motioned  them  away,  and  clasped 
the  clay  to  his  breast  till  he  was  literally  soaked  with  the 
oozing  blood. 

The  poor  child's  garland  had  not  dropped  from  his  arm  even 
when  he  fell,  and,  entangled  by  his  dress,  it  still  clung  around 
him.  It  was  a  sight  that  recalled  to  Cola  all  the  gentleness, 
the  kind  heart,  and  winning  graces  of  his  only  brother,  —  his 
only  friend!  It  was  a  sight  that  seemed  to  make  yet  more 
inhuman  the  untimely  and  unmerited  fate  of  that  innocent 
boy.  "  My  brother,  my  brother ! "  groaned  the  survivor.  "  How 
shall  I  meet  our  mother  ?  How  shall  I  meet  even  night  and 
solitude  again  ?  So  young,  so  harmless !  See  ye,  sirs,  he  was 
but  too  gentle !  And  they  will  not  give  us  justice  because  his 
murderer  was  a  noble  and  a  Colonna.  And  this  gold,  too  — 
gold  for  a  brother's  blood !  Will  they  not "  —  and  the  young 
man's  eyes  glared  like  fire  —  "will  they  not  give  us  justice  ? 
Time  shall  show ! "  So  saying,  he  bent  his  head  over  the 
corpse,  his  lips  muttered,  as  with  some  prayer  or  invocation, 
and  then  rising,  his  face  was  as  pale  as  the  dead  beside  him ; 
but  it  was  no  longer  pale  with  grief! 

From  that  bloody  clay  and  that  inward  prayer,  Cola  di 
Rienzi  rose  a  new  being.  "With  his  young  brother  died  his  own 
youth.  But  for  that  event,  the  future  liberator  of  Rome  might 
have  been  but  a  dreamer,  a  scholar,  a  poet,  —  the  peaceful 
rival  of  Petrarch;  a  man  of  thoughts,  not  deeds.  But  from 
that  time  all  his  faculties,  energies,  fancies,  genius,  became 
concentrated  into  a  single  point ;  and  patriotism,  before  a 
vision,  leapt  into  the  life  and  vigor  of  a  passion,  lastingly 
kindled,  stubbornly  hardened,  and  awfully  consecrated,  by 
.  revenge! 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  13 


CHAPTER  II. 

AN   HISTORICAL   SURVEY,  NOT   TO    BE   PASSED   OVER,  EXCEPT   BY 
THOSE    WHO    DISLIKE    TO    UNDERSTAND    WHAT    THEY    READ. 

YEARS  had  passed  away,  and  the  death  of  the  Roman  boy, 
amidst  more  noble  and  less  excusable  slaughter,  was  soon 
forgotten,  —  forgotten  almost  by  the  parents  of  the  slain,  in 
the  growing  fame  and  fortunes  of  their  eldest  son ;  forgotten 
and  forgiven  never  by  that  son  himself.  But  between  that 
prologue  of  blood  and  the  political  drama  which  ensues, — 
between  the  fading  interest,  as  it  were,  of  a  dream,  and  the 
more  busy,  actual,  and  continuous  excitements  of  sterner 
life,  —  this  may  be  the  most  fitting  time  to  place  before  the 
reader  a  short  and  rapid  outline  of  the  state  and  circumstances 
of  that  city  in  which  the  principal  scenes  of  this  story  are 
laid :  an  outline  necessary,  perhaps,  to  many,  for  a  full  com- 
prehension of  the  motives  of  the  actors  and  the  vicissitudes 
of  the  plot. 

Despite  the  miscellaneous  and  mongrel  tribes  that  had  forced 
their  settlements  in  the  City  of  the  Csesars,  the  Roman  popu- 
lation retained  an  inordinate  notion  of  their  own  supremacy 
over  the  rest  of  the  world;  and,  degenerated  from  the  iron 
virtues  of  the  Republic,  possessed  all  the  insolent  and  unruly 
turbulence  which  characterized  the  Plebs  of  the  ancient  Forum. 
Amongst  a  ferocious,  yet  not  a  brave  populace,  the  nobles 
supported  themselves  less  as  sagacious  tyrants  than  as  relent- 
less banditti.  The  popes  had  struggled  in  vain  against  these 
stubborn  and  stern  patricians.  Their  state  derided,  their  com- 
mand defied,  their  persons  publicly  outraged,  the  pontiff- 
sovereigns  of  the  rest  of  Europe  resided  at  the  Vatican  as 
prisoners  under  terror  of  execution.  When,  thirty-eight  years 
before  the  date  of  the  events  we  are  about  to  witness,  a  French- 
man, under  the  name  of  Clement  V.,  had  ascended  the  chair  of 
Saint  Peter,  the  new  Pope,  with  more  prudence  than  valor, 


14  RIENZI: 

hud  deserted  Rome  for  the  tranquil  retreat  of  Avignon;  and 
the  luxurious  town  of  a  foreign  province  became  the  court  of 
the  Roman  pontiff  and  the  throne  of  the  Christian  Church. 

Thus  deprived  of  even  the  nominal  check  of  the  papal 
presence,  the  power  of  the  nobles  might  be  said  to  have  no 
limits  save  their  own  caprice  or  their  mutual  jealousies  and 
feuds.  Though  arrogating  through  fabulous  genealogies  their 
descent  from  the  ancient  Romans,  they  were  in  reality,  for  the 
most  part,  the  sons  of  the  bolder  barbarians  of  the  North  ;  and 
contaminated  by  the  craft  of  Italy,  rather  than  imbued  with 
its  national  affections,  they  retained  the  disdain  of  their  for- 
eign ancestors  for  a  conquered  soil  and  a  degenerate  people. 
While  the  rest  of  Italy,  especially  in  Florence,  in  Venice,  and 
in  Milan,  was  fast  and  far  advancing  beyond  the  other  states 
of  Europe  in  civilization  and  in  art,  the  Romans  appeared 
rather  to  recede  than  to  improve,  —  unblest  by  laws,  un visited 
by  art,  strangers  at  once  to  the  chivalry  of  a  warlike,  and  the 
graces  of  a  peaceful  people.  But  they  still  possessed  the  sense 
and  desire  of  liberty,  and  by  ferocious  paroxysms  and  desper- 
ate struggles  sought  to  vindicate  for  their  city  the  title  it  still 
assumed  of  "  the  Metropolis  of  the  World."  For  the  last  two 
centuries  they  had  known  various  revolutions,  —  brief,  often 
bloody,  and  always  unsuccessful.  Still,  there  was  the  empty 
pageant  of  a  popular  form  of  government.  The  thirteen 
quarters  of  the  city  named  each  a  chief ;  and  the  assembly  of 
these  magistrates,  called  Caporioni,  by  theory  possessed  an 
authority  they  had  neither  the  power  nor  the  courage  to  exert. 
Still  there  was  the  proud  name  of  Senator ;  but  at  the  present 
time  the  office  was  confined  to  one  or  to  two  persons,  sometimes 
elected  by  the  Pope,  sometimes  by  the  nobles.  The  authority 
attached  to  the  name  seems  to  have  had  no  definite  limit ;  it 
was  that  of  a  stern  dictator  or  an  indolent  puppet,  according 
as  he  who  held  it  had  the  power  to  enforce  the  dignity  he 
assumed.  It  was  never  conceded  but  to  nobles,  and  it  was  by 
the  nobles  that  all  the  outrages  were  committed.  Private 
enmity  alone  was  gratified  whenever  public  justice  was  in- 
voked ;  and  the  vindication  of  order  was  but  the  execution 
of  revenge. 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  15 

Holding  their  palaces  as  the  castles  and  fortresses  of  princes, 
each  asserting  his  own  independency  of  all  authority  and  law, 
and  planting  fortifications  and  claiming  principalities  in  the 
patrimonial  territories  of  the  Church,  the  barons  of  Rome 
made  their  state  still  more  secure,  and  still  more  odious,  by 
the  maintenance  of  troops  of  foreign  (chiefly  of  German) 
mercenaries,  at  once  braver  in  disposition,  more  disciplined  in 
service,  and  more  skilful  in  arms,  than  even  the  freest  Italians 
of  that  time.  Thus  they  united  the  judicial  and  the  military 
force,  not  for  the  protection,  but  for  the  ruin  of  Rome.  Of 
these  barons,  the  most  powerful  were  the  Orsini  and  Colonna ; 
their  feuds  were  hereditary  and  incessant,  and  every  day 
witnessed  the  fruits  of  their  lawless  warfare  in  bloodshed,  in 
rape,  and  in  conflagration.  The  flattery  or  the  friendship  of 
Petrarch,  too  credulously  believed  by  modern  historians,  has 
invested  the  Colonna,  especially  of  the  date  now  entered  upon, 
with  an  elegance  and  a  dignity  not  their  own.  Outrage,  fraud, 
and  assassination,  a  sordid  avarice  in  securing  lucrative  offices 
to  themselves,  an  insolent  oppression  of  their  citizens,  and  the 
most  dastardly  cringing  to  power  superior  to  their  own  (with 
but  few  exceptions),  mark  the  character  of  the  first  family  of 
Rome.  But  wealthier  than  the  rest  of  the  barons,  they  were 
therefore  more  luxurious,  and  perhaps  more  intellectual ;  and 
their  pride  was  flattered  in  being  patrons  of  those  arts  of 
which  they  could  never  have  become  the  professors.  From 
these  multiplied  oppressors  the  Roman  citizens  turned,  with 
fond  and  impatient  regret,  to  their  ignorant  and  dark  notions 
of  departed  liberty  and  greatness.  They  confounded  the 
times  of  the  Empire  with  those  of  the  Republic,  and  often 
looked  to  the  Teutonic  king  who  obtained  his  election  from 
beyond  the  Alps,  but  his  title  of  emperor  from  the  Romans,  as 
the  deserter  of  his  legitimate  trust  and  proper  home ;  vainly 
imagining  that  if  both  the  Emperor  and  the  Pontiff  fixed  their 
residence  in  Rome,  Liberty  and  Law  would  again  seek  their 
natural  shelter  beneath  the  resuscitated  majesty  of  the  Roman 
people. 

The  absence  of  the  Pope  and  the  papal  court  served  greatly 
to  impoverish  the  citizens;  and  they  had  suffered  yet  more 


16  RIENZI : 

visibly  by  the  depredations  of  hordes  of  robbers,  numerous 
and  unsparing,  who  infested  Romagna,  obstructing  all  the 
public  ways,  and  were,  sometimes  secretly,  sometimes  openly, 
protected  by  the  barons,  who  often  recruited  their  banditti 
garrisons  by  banditti  soldiers. 

But  besides  the  lesser  and  ignobler  robbers,  there  had  risen 
in  Italy  a  far  more  formidable  description  of  freebooters.  A 
German,  who  assumed  the  lofty  title  of  the  Duke  Werner,  had, 
a  few  years  prior  to  the  period  we  approach,  enlisted  and 
organized  a  considerable  force,  styled  "  The  Great  Company," 
with  which  he  besieged  cities  and  invaded  states,  without  any 
object  less  shameless  than  that  of  pillage.  His  example  was 
soon  imitated ;  numerous  "  Companies,"  similarly  constituted, 
devastated  the  distracted  and  divided  land.  They  appeared, 
suddenly  raised,  as  if  by  magic,  before  the  walls  of  a  city,  and 
demanded  immense  sums  as  the  purchase  of  peace.  Neither 
tyrant  nor  commonwealth  maintained  a  force  sufficient  to 
resist  them ;  and  if  other  northern  mercenaries  were  engaged 
to  oppose  them,  it  was  only  to  recruit  the  standards  of  the 
freebooters  with  deserters.  Mercenary  fought  not  mercenary, 
nor  German  German;  and  greater  pay  and  more  unbridled 
rapine  made  the  tents  of  the  "  Companies  "  far  more  attractive 
than  the  regulated  stipends  of  a  city,  or  the  dull  fortress  and 
impoverished  coffers  of  a  chief.  Werner,  the  most  implacable 
and  ferocious  of  all  these  adventurers,  and  who  had  so  openly 
gloried  in  his  enormities  as  to  wear  upon  his  breast  a  silver 
plate  engraved  with  the  words  "  Enemy  to  God,  to  Pity,  and 
to  Mercy,"  had  not  long  since  ravaged  llomagna  with  fire  and 
sword.  But,  whether  induced  by  money,  or  unable  to  control 
the  fierce  spirits  he  had  raised,  he  afterwards  led  the  bulk  of 
his  company  back  to  Germany.  Small  detachments,  however, 
remained,  scattered  throughout  the  land,  waiting  only  an  able 
leader  once  more  to  re-unite  them.  Amongst  those  who  ap- 
peared most  fitted  for  that  destiny  was  Walter  de  Montreal,  a 
Knight  of  St.  John  and  gentleman  of  Provence,  whose  valor 
and  military  genius  had  already,  though  yet  young,  raised  his 
name  into  dreaded  celebrity,  and  whose  ambition,  experience, 
and  sagacity,  relieved  by  certain  chivalric  and  noble  qualities, 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  17 

•were  suited  to  enterprises  far  greater  and  more  important  than 
the  violent  depredations  of  the  atrocious  Werner.  From  these 
scourges  no  state  had  suffered  more  grievously  than  Rome. 
The  patrimonial  territories  of  the  Pope  —  in  part  wrested  from 
him  by  petty  tyrants,  in  part  laid  waste  by  these  foreign 
robbers  —  yielded  but  a  scanty  supply  to  the  necessities  of 
Clement  VI.,  the  most  accomplished  gentleman  and  the  most 
graceful  voluptuary  of  his  time ;  and  the  good  father  had 
devised  a  plan  whereby  to  enrich  at  once  the  Romans  and 
their  pontiff. 

Nearly  fifty  years  before  the  time  we  enter  upon,  in  order 
both  to  replenish  the  papal  coffers  and  pacify  the  starving 
Romans,  Boniface  VIII.  had  instituted  the  Festival  of  the 
Jubilee,  or  Holy  Year,  —  in  fact,  a  revival  of  a  pagan  cere- 
monial. A  plenary  indulgence  was  promised  to  every  Catholic 
who  in  that  year  and  in  the  first  year  of  every  succeeding  cen- 
tury should  visit  the  churches  of  St.  Peter  and  St  Paul.  An 
immense  concourse  of  pilgrims,  from  every  part  of  Christen- 
dom, had  attested  the  wisdom  of  the  invention;  "and  two 
priests  stood  night  and  day,  with  rakes  in  their  hands,  to 
collect  without  counting  the  heaps  of  gold  and  silver  that  were 
poured  on  the  altar  of  St.  Paul." 1 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  this  most  lucrative  festival 
should,  ere  the  next  century  was  half  expired,  appear  to  a  dis 
creet  pontiff  to  be  too  long  postponed ;  and  both  Pope  and  city 
agreed  in  thinking  it  might  well  bear  a  less  distant  renewal. 
Accordingly,  Clement  VI.  had  proclaimed,  under  the  name  of 
the  Mosaic  Jubilee,  a  second  Holy  Year  for  1350,  —  namely, 
three  years  distant  from  that  date  at  which,  in  the  next  chap- 
ter, my  narrative  will  commence.  This  circumstance  had  a 
great  effect  in  whetting  the  popular  indignation  against  the 
barons,  and  preparing  the  events  I  shall  relate ;  for  the  roads 
were,  as  I  before  said,  infested  by  the  banditti,  —  the  creatures 
and  allies  of  the  barons.  And  if  the  roads  were  not  cleared, 
the  pilgrims  might  not  attend.  It  was  the  object  of  the 
Pope's  vicar,  Raimond,  bishop  of  Orvietto  (bad  politician  and 
good  canonist),  to  seek,  by  every  means,  to  remove  all  imped- 

1  Gibbon,  vol.  xii.  c.  59. 
VOL.  i.  —  2 


18  RIENZI : 

iment  between  the  offerings  of  devotion  and  the  treasury  of 
Saint  Peter. 

Such,  in  brief,  was  the  state  of  Rome  at  the  period  we  are 
about  to  examine.  Her  ancient  mantle  of  renown  still,  in  the 
eyes  of  Italy  and  of  Europe,  cloaked  her  ruins.  In  name,  at 
least,  she  was  still  the  queen  of  the  earth ;  and  from  her  hands 
came  the  crown  of  the  Emperor  of  the  North,  and  the  keys  of 
the  Father  of  the  Church.  Her  situation  was  precisely  that 
which  presented  a  vast  and  glittering  triumph  to  bold  ambi- 
tion, an  inspiring,  if  mournful,  spectacle  to  determined  patri- 
otism, and  a  fitting  stage  for  that  more  august  tragedy  which 
seeks  its  incidents,  selects  its  actors,  and  shapes  its  moral 
amidst  the  vicissitudes  and  crimes  of  nations. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    BRAWL. 

ON  an  evening  in  April,  1347,  and  in  one  of  those  wide 
spaces  in  which  Modern  and  Ancient  Rome  seemed  blent  to- 
gether, —  equally  desolate  and  equally  in  ruins,  —  a  miscella- 
neous and  indignant  populace  were  assembled.  That  morning 
the  house  of  a  Roman  jeweller  had  been  forcibly  entered  and 
pillaged  by  the  soldiers  of  Martino  di  Porto,  with  a  daring 
effrontery  which  surpassed  even  the  ordinary  license  of  the 
barons.  The  sympathy  and  sensation  throughout  the  city 
were  deep  and  ominous. 

"  Never  will  I  submit  to  this  tyranny ! " 

"Nor  I!" 

"Nor  I!" 

"  Nor,  by  the  bones  of  Saint  Peter,  will  1 1 " 

"  And  what,  my  friends,  is  this  tyranny  to  which  you  will 
not  submit  ? "  said  a  young  nobleman,  addressing  himself  to 
the  crowd  of  citizens  who,  heated,  angry,  half-armed,  and  with 
the  vehement  gestures  of  Italian  passion,  were  now  sweeping 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  19 

down  the  long  and  narrow  street  that  led  to  the  gloomy  quar- 
ter occupied  by  the  OrsinL 

"Ah,  my  lord!"  cried  two  or  three  of  the  citizens  in  a 
breath,  "  you  will  right  us ;  you  will  see  justice  done  to  us ; 
you  are  a  Colonna ! " 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! "  laughed  scornfully  one  man  of  gigantic  frame, 
and  wielding  on  high  a  huge  hammer,  indicative  of  his  trade. 
"  Justice  and  Colonna !  Body  of  God,  those  names  are  not  often 
found  together ! " 

"  Down  with  him !  Down  with  him !  He  is  an  Orsinist,  — 
down  with  him ! "  cried  at  least  ten  of  the  throng ;  but  no  hand 
was  raised  against  the  giant. 

"  He  speaks  the  truth,"  said  a  second  voice,  firmly. 

"Ay,  that  doth  he,"  said  a  third,  knitting  his  brows  and 
unsheathing  his  knife,  "  and  we  will  abide  by  it !  The  Orsini 
are  tyrants,  —  and  the  Colonnas  are,  at  the  best,  as  bad." 

"  Thou  liest  in  thy  teeth,  ruffian ! "  cried  the  young  noble, 
advancing  into  the  press  and  confronting  the  last  asperser  of 
the  Colonna. 

Before  the  flashing  eye  and  menacing  gesture  of  the  cavalier, 
the  worthy  brawler  retreated  some  steps,  so  as  to  leave  an  open 
space  between  the  towering  form  of  the  smith  and  the  small, 
slender,  but  vigorous  frame  of  the  young  noble. 

Taught  from  their  birth  to  despise  the  courage  of  the  plebei- 
ans, even  while  careless  of  much  reputation  as  to  their  own, 
the  patricians  of  Eome  were  not  unaccustomed  to  the  rude 
fellowship  of  these  brawls ;  nor  was  it  unoften  that  the  mere 
presence  of  a  noble  sufficed  to  scatter  whole  crowds  that  had 
the  moment  before  been  breathing  vengeance  against  his  order 
and  his  house. 

Waving  his  hand,  therefore,  to  the  smith,  and  utterly  un- 
heeding either  his  brandished  weapon  or  his  vast  stature,  the 
young  Adrian  di  Castello,  a  distant  kinsman  of  the  Colonna, 
haughtily  bade  him  give  way. 

"  To  your  homes,  friends !  And  know,"  he  added,  with  some 
dignity,  "  that  ye  wrong  us  much  if  ye  imagine  we  share  the 
evil-doings  of  the  Orsini,  or  are  pandering  solely  to  our  own 
passions  in  the  feud  between  their  house  and  ours.  May  the 


20  RIENZI : 

Holy  Mother  so  judge  me,"  continued  he,  devoutly  lifting  up 
his  eyes,  "as  I  now  with  truth  declare  that  it  is  for  your 
wrongs,  and  for  the  wrongs  of  Rome,  that  I  have  drawn  this 
sword  against  the  Orsini ! " 

"  So  say  all  the  tyrants,"  rejoined  the  smith,  hardily,  as  he 
leant  his  hammer  against  a  fragment  of  stone,  —  some  rem- 
nant of  ancient  Rome,  —  "  they  never  fight  against  each  other 
but  it  is  for  our  good.  One  Colonna  cuts  me  the  throat  of 
Orsini's  baker  —  it  is  for  our  good !  another  Colonna  seizes  on 
the  daughter  of  Orsini's  tailor  —  it  is  for  our  good !  Our  good, 
—  yes,  for  the  good  of  the  people ;  the  good  of  the  bakers  and 
tailors,  eh  ?  " 

"  Fellow,"  said  the  young  nobleman,  gravely,  "  if  a  Colonna 
did  thus,  he  did  wrong ;  but  the  holiest  cause  may  have  bad 
supporters." 

"  Yes,  the  Holy  Church  itself  is  propped  on  very  indifferent 
columns,"  answered  the  smith,  in  a  rude  witticism  on  the  affec- 
tion of  the  Pope  for  the  Colonna. 

"  He  blasphemes  !  the  smith  blasphemes  ! "  cried  the  parti- 
sans of  that  powerful  house.  "  A  Colonna,  a  Colonna ! " 

"  An  Orsini,  an  Orsini ! "  was  no  less  promptly  the  counter- 
cry. 

"  THE  PEOPLE  ! "  shouted  the  smith,  waving  his  formidable 
weapon  far  above  the  heads  of  the  group. 

In  an  instant  the  whole  throng,  who  had  at  first  united 
against  the  aggression  of  one  man,  were  divided  by  the  hered- 
itary wrath  of  faction.  At  the  cry  of  Orsini,  several  new  par- 
tisans hurried  to  the  spot;  the  friends  of  the  Colonna  drew 
themselves  on  one  side,  the  defenders  of  the  Orsini  on  the 
other ;  and  the  few  who  agreed  with  the  smith  that  both  fac- 
tions were  equally  odious,  and  the  people  was  the  sole  legi- 
timate cry  in  a  popular  commotion,  would  have  withdrawn 
themselves  from  the  approaching  melee,  if  the  smith  himself, 
who  was  looked  upon  by  them  as  an  authority  of  great  influ- 
ence, had  not  —  whether  from  resentment  at  the  haughty 
bearing  of  the  young  Colonna,  or  from  that  appetite  of  con- 
test not  uncommon  in  men  of  a  bulk  and  force  which  assure 
them  in  all  personal  affrays  the  lofty  pleasure  of  superiority  — 


THE   LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  21 

if,  I  say,  the  smith  himself  had  not,  after  a  pause  of  indeci- 
sion, retired  among  the  Orsini,  and  entrained,  by  his  example, 
the  alliance  of  his  friends  with  the  favorers  of  that  faction. 

In  popular  commotions  each  man  is  whirled  along  with  the 
herd,  often  half  against  his  own  approbation  or  assent.  The 
few  words  of  peace  by  which  Adrian  di  Castello  commenced 
an  address  to  his  friends  were  drowned  amidst  their  shouts. 
Proud  to  find  in  their  ranks  one  of  the  most  beloved  and  one 
of  the  noblest  of  that  name,  the  partisans  of  the  Colonna 
placed  him  in  their  front  and  charged  impetuously  on  their 
foes.  Adrian,  however,  who  had  acquired  from  circumstances 
something  of  that  chivalrous  code  which  he  certainly  could 
not  have  owed  to  his  Koman  birth,  disdained  at  first  to  assault 
men  among  whom  he  recognized  no  equal  either  in  rank  or 
the  practice  of  arms.  He  contented  himself  with  putting 
aside  the  few  strokes  that  were  aimed  at  him  in  the  gather- 
ing confusion  of  the  conflict,  —  few ;  for  those  who  recognized 
him,  even  amidst  the  bitterest  partisans  of  the  Orsini,  were 
not  willing  to  expose  themselves  to  the  danger  and  odium  of 
spilling  the  blood  of  a  man  who,  in  addition  to  his  great  birth 
and  the  terrible  power  of  his  connections,  was  possessed  of 
a  personal  popularity  which  he  owed  rather  to  a  comparison 
with  the  vices  of  his  relatives  than  to  any  remarkable  virtues 
hitherto  displayed  by  himself.  The  smith  alone,  who  had  as 
yet  taken  no  active  part  in  the  fray,  seemed  to  gather  himself 
up  in  determined  opposition  as  the  cavalier  now  advanced 
within  a  few  steps  of  him. 

"  Did  we  not  tell  thee,"  quoth  the  giant,  frowning,  "  that  the 
Colonna  were,  not  less  than  the  Orsini,  the  foes  of  the  people  ? 
Look '  at  thy  followers  and  clients :  are  they  not  cutting  the 
throats  of  humble  men  by  way  of  vengeance  for  the  crime  of 
a  great  one  ?  But  that  is  the  way  one  patrician  always  scourges 
the  insolence  of  another.  He  lays  the  rod  on  the  backs  of  the 
people,  and  then  cries,  '  See  how  just  I  am ! ' " 

"  I  do  not  answer  thee  now,"  answered  Adrian ;  "  but  if  thou 
regrettest  with  me  this  waste  of  blood,  join  with  me  in  attempt- 
ing to  prevent  it." 

"I  —  not  I !    Let  the  blood  of  the  slaves  flow  to-day ;  the 


22  RIENZI : 

time  is  fast  coming  when  it  shall  be  washed  away  by  the  blood 
of  the  lords." 

"  Away,  ruffian ! "  said  Adrian,  seeking  no  further  parley, 
and  touching  the  smith  with  the  flat  side  of  his  sword.  In  an 
instant  the  hammer  of  the  smith  swung  in  the  air,  and  but  for 
the  active  spring  of  the  young  noble  would  infallibly  have 
crushed  him  to  the  earth.  Ere  the  smith  could  gain  time  for  a 
second  blow,  Adrian's  sword  passed  twice  through  his  right 
arm,  and  the  weapon  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

"Slay  him,  slay  him!"  cried  several  of  the  clients  of  the 
Colonna,  now  pressing,  dastard-like,  round  the  disarmed  and 
disabled  smith. 

"  Ay,  slay  him ! "  said,  in  tolerable  Italian  but  with  a  bar- 
barous accent,  one  man,  half-clad  in  armor,  who  had  but  just 
joined  the  group,  and  who  was  one  of  those  wild  German 
bandits  whom  the  Colonna  held  in  their  pay ;  "  he  belongs  to  a 
horrible  gang  of  miscreants  sworn  against  all  order  and  peace. 
He  is  one  of  Rienzi's  followers,  and,  bless  the  Three  Kings ! 
raves  about  the  People." 

"Thou  sayest  right,  barbarian,"  said  the  sturdy  smith,  in  a 
loud  voice,  and  tearing  aside  the  vest  from  his  breast  with  his 
left  hand.  "  Come  all,  —  Colonna  and  Orsini,  —  dig  to  this 
heart  with  your  sharp  blades ;  and  when  you  have  reached  the 
centre,  you  will  find  there  the  object  of  your  common  hatred,  — 
'  Rienzi  and  the  People ! ' " 

As  he  uttered  these  words,  in  language  that  would  have 
seemed  above  his  station  if  a  certain  glow  and  exaggeration 
of  phrase  and  sentiment  were  not  common,  when  excited,  to 
all  the  Romans,  the  loudness  of  his  voice  rose  above  the  noise 
immediately  round  him,  and  stilled  for  an  instant  the  general 
din;  and  when,  at  last,  the  words  "Rienzi  and  the  People" 
rang  forth,  they  penetrated  midway  through  the  increasing 
crowd,  and  were  answered,  as  by  an  echo,  with  a  hundred 
voices,  "  Rienzi  and  the  People  ! " 

But  whatever  impression  the  words  of  the  mechanic  made 
on  others,  it  was  equally  visible  in  the  young  Colonna.  At  the 
name  of  Rienzi  the  glow  of  excitement  vanished  from  his 
cheek,  he  started  back,  muttered  to  himself,  and  for  a  moment 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  23 

seemed,  even  in  the  midst  of  that  stirring  commotion,  to  be 
lost  in  a  moody  and  distant  revery.  He  recovered  as  the  shout 
died  away ;  and  saying  to  the  smith,  in  a  low  tone,  "  Friend,  I 
am  sorry  for  thy  wound ;  but  seek  me  on  the  morrow,  and  thou 
shalt  find  thou  hast  wronged  me,"  he  beckoned  to  the  German 
to  follow  him,  and  threaded  his  way  through  the  crowd,  which 
generally  gave  back  as  he  advanced.  For  the  bitterest  hatred 
to  the  order  of  the  nobles  was  at  that  time  in  Home  mingled 
with  a  servile  respect  for  their  persons  and  a  mysterious  awe 
of  their  uncontrollable  power. 

As  Adrian  passed  through  that  part  of  the  crowd  in  which 
the  fray  had  not  yet  commenced,  the  murmurs  that  followed 
him  were  not  those  which  many  of  his  race  could  have  heard. 

"  A  Colonna,"  said  one. 

"  Yet  no  ravisher,"  said  another,  laughing  wildly. 

"  Xor  murderer,"  muttered  a  third,  pressing  his  hand  to  his 
breast.  " '  T  is  not  against  him  that  my  father's  blood  cries 
aloud." 

"  Bless  him ! "  said  a  fourth ;  "  for  as  yet  no  man  curses 
him." 

"  Ah,  God  help  us ! "  said  an  old  man  with  a  long  gray  beard, 
leaning  on  his  staff.  "The  serpent's  young  yet;  the  fangs 
will  show  by  and  by." 

"  For  shame,  father !  he  is  a  comely  youth  and  not  proud  in 
the  least.  What  a  smile  he  hath ! "  quoth  a  fair  matron  who 
kept  on  the  outskirt  of  the  melee. 

"Farewell  to  a  man's  honor  when  a  noble  smiles  on  his 
wife  ! "  was  the  answer. 

"Nay,"  said  Luigi,  a  jolly  butcher  with  a  roguish  eye,  "what 
a  man  can  win  fairly  from  maid  or  wife,  that  let  him  do, 
whether  plebeian  or  noble,  —  that 's  my  morality ;  but  when  an 
ugly  old  patrician  finds  fair  words  will  not  win  fair  looks,  and 
carries  me  off  a  dame  on  the  back  of  a  German  boar,  with  a 
stab  in  the  side  for  comfort  to  the  spouse,  then,  I  say,  he  is  a 
wicked  man  and  an  adulterer." 

While  such  were  the  comments  and  the  murmurs  that  fol- 
lowed the  noble,  very  different  were  the  looks  and  words  that 
attended  the  German  soldier. 


24  RIENZI : 

Equally,  nay,  with  even  greater  promptitude,  did  the  crowd 
make  way  at  his  armed  and  heavy  tread ;  but  not  with  looks  of 
reverence.  The  eye  glared  as  he  approached,  but  the  cheek 
grew  pale,  the  head  bowed,  the  lip  quivered ;  each  man  felt  a 
shudder  of  hate  and  fear,  as  recognizing  a  dread  and  mortal 
foe.  And  well  and  wrathfully  did  the  fierce  mercenary  note 
the  signs  of  the  general  aversion.  He  pushed  on  rudely,  half- 
smiling  in  contempt,  half-frowning  in  revenge,  as  he  looked 
from  side  to  side ;  and  his  long,  matted  light  hair,  tawny- 
colored  mustache,  and  brawny  front  contrasted  strongly 
with  the  dark  eyes,  raven  locks,  and  slender  frames  of  the 
Italians. 

"  May  Lucifer  double  damn  those  German  cut-throats ! " 
muttered,  between  his  grinded  teeth,  one  of  the  citizens. 

"  Amen ! "  answered  heartily  another. 

"  Hush !  "  said  a  third,  timorously  looking  round ;  "  if  one 
of  them  hear  thee  thou  art  a  lost  man." 

"  0  Eome,  Koine  !  to  what  art  thou  fallen ! "  said  bitterly 
one  citizen,  clothed  in  black  and  of  a  higher  seeming  than  the 
rest,  "  when  thou  shudderest  in  thy  streets  at  the  tread  of  a 
hired  barbarian ! " 

"  Hark  to  one  of  our  learned  men  and  rich  citizens  ! "  said 
the  butcher,  reverently. 

" '  T  is  a  friend  of  Rienzi,"  quoth  another  of  the  group, 
lifting  his  cap. 

With  downcast  eyes  and  a  face  in  which  grief,  shame,  and 
wrath  were  visibly  expressed,  Pandulfo  di  Guido,  a  citizen  of 
birth  and  repute,  swept  slowly  through  the  crowd  and  disap- 
peared. 

Meanwhile  Adrian,  having  gained  a  street  which,  though  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  crowd,  was  empty  and  desolate,  turned 
to  his  fierce  comrade.  "  Rodolf,"  said  he,  "  mark !  no  violence 
to  the  citizens.  Return  to  the  crowd,  collect  the  friends  of 
our  house,  withdraw  them  from  the  scene :  let  not  the  Colonna 
be  blamed  for  this  day's  violence ;  and  assure  our  followers,  in 
my  name,  that  I  swear,  by  the  knighthood  I  received  at  the 
Emperor's  hands,  that  by  my  sword  shall  Martino  di  Porto  be 
punished  for  his  outrage.  Fain  would  I  in  person  allay  the 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  25 

tumult,  but  my  presence  only  seems  to  sanction  it.     Go ;  thou 
hast  weight  with  them  all." 

"  Ay,  Signor,  the  weight  of  blows ! "  answered  the  grim 
soldier.  "But  the  command  is  hard;  I  would  fain  let  their 
puddle-blood  flow  an  hour  or  two  longer.  Yet,  pardon  me  :  in 
obeying  thy  orders,  do  I  obey  those  of  my  master,  thy  kins- 
man ?  It  is  old  Stephen  Colonna,  who  seldom  spares  blood  or 
treasure,  God  bless  him  (save  his  own ! ),  whose  money  I  hold, 
and  to  whose  hests  I  am  sworn." 

"  Diavolo ! "  muttered  the  cavalier,  and  the  angry  spot  was 
on  his  cheek ;  but  with  the  habitual  self-control  of  the  Italian 
nobles  he  smothered  his  rising  choler,  and  said  aloud,  with 
calmness  but  dignity,  — 

"  Do  as  I  bid  thee,  —  check  this  tumult ;  make  us  the  for- 
bearing party.  Let  all  be  still  within  one  hour  hence,  and  call 
on  me  to-morrow  for  thy  reward ;  be  this  purse  an  earnest  of 
my  future  thanks.  As  for  my  kinsman,  whom  I  command 
thee  to  name  more  reverently,  'tis  in  his  name  I  speak. 
Hark !  the  din  increases,  the  contest  swells ;  go,  lose  not 
another  moment." 

Somewhat  awed  by  the  quiet  firmness  of  the  patrician, 
Kodolf  nodded  without  answer,  slid  the  money  into  his  bosom, 
and  stalked  away  into  the  thickest  of  the  throng.  But  even 
ere  he  arrived,  a  sudden  reaction  had  taken  place. 

The  young  cavalier,  left  alone  in  that  spot,  followed  with 
his  eyes  the  receding  form  of  the  mercenary  as  the  sun,  now 
setting,  shone  slant  upon  his  glittering  casque,  and  said  bit- 
terly to  himself:  "Unfortunate  city,  fountain  of  all  mighty 
memories,  fallen  queen  of  a  thousand  nations,  how  art  thou 
decrowned  and  spoiled  by  thy  recreant  and  apostate  children ! 
Thy  nobles  divided  against  themselves,  thy  people  cursing  thy 
nobles,  thy  priests,  who  should  sow  peace,  planting  discord, 
the  Father  of  thy  Church  deserting  thy  stately  walls,  his  home 
a  refuge,  his  mitre  a  fief,  his  court  a  Gallic  village ;  and  we,  we 
of  the  haughtiest  blood  of  Rome,  we,  the  sons  of  Caesars  and 
of  the  lineage  of  demigods,  guarding  an  insolent  and  abhorred 
state  by  the  swords  of  hirelings  who  mock  our  cowardice  while 
';hey  receive  our  pay,  who  keep  our  citizens  slaves,  and  lord  it 


26  RIENZI : 

over  their  very  masters  in  return !  Oh  that  we,  the  heredi- 
tary chiefs  of  Rome,  could  but  feel,  oh  that  we  could  but  find, 
our  only  legitimate  safeguard  in  the  grateful  hearts  of  our 
countrymen ! " 

So  deeply  did  the  young  Adrian  feel  the  galling  truth  of  all 
he  uttered,  that  the  indignant  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  as 
he  spoke.  He  felt  no  shame  as  he  dashed  them  away;  for 
that  weakness  which  weeps  for  a  fallen  race  is  the  tenderness, 
not  of  women,  but  of  angels. 

As  he  turned  slowly  to  quit  the  spot,  his  steps  were  sud- 
denly arrested  by  a  loud  shout ;  "  Rienzi !  Rienzi ! "  smote  the 
air.  From  the  walls  of  the  Capitol  to  the  bed  of  the  glittering 
Tiber,  that  name  echoed  far  and  wide ;  and  as  the  shout  died 
away,  it  was  swallowed  up  in  a  silence  so  profound,  so  univer- 
sal, so  breathless  that  you  might  have  imagined  that  death 
itself  had  fallen  over  the  city.  And  now,  at  the  extreme  end 
of  the  crowd,  and  elevated  above  their  level,  on  vast  frag- 
ments of  stone  which  had  been  dragged  from  the  ruins  of 
Rome  in  one  of  the  late  frequent  tumults  between  contending 
factions,  to  serve  as  a  barricade  for  citizens  against  citizens,  — 
on  these  silent  memorials  of  the  past  grandeur,  the  present 
misery,  of  Rome,  stood  that  extraordinary  man,  who  above  all 
his  race  was  the  most  penetrated  with  the  glories  of  the  one 
time,  with  the  degradation  of  the  other. 

From  the  distance  at  which  he  stood  from  the  scene,  Adrian 
could  only  distinguish  the  dark  outline  of  Rienzi's  form ;  he 
could  only  hear  the  faint  sound  of  his  mighty  voice ;  he  could 
only  perceive,  in  the  subdued  yet  waving  sea  of  human  beings 
that  spread  around,  their  heads  bared  in  the  last  rays  of  the 
sun,  the  unutterable  effect  which  an  eloquence,  described  by 
contemporaries  almost  as  miraculous,  —  but  in  reality  less  so 
from  the  genius  of  the  man  than  the  sympathy  of  the  audience, 
—  created  in  all  who  drank  into  their  hearts  and  souls  the 
stream  of  its  burning  thoughts. 

It  was  but  for  a  short  time  that  that  form  was  visible  to  the 
earnest  eye,  that  that  voice  at  intervals  reached  the  straining 
ear,  of  Adrian  di  Castello ;  but  that  time  sufficed  to  produce  a!2 
the  effect  which  Adrian  himself  had  desired. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  27 

Another  shout,  more  earnest,  more  prolonged  than  the  first, 
—  a  shout  in  which  spoke  the  release  of  swelling  thoughts,  of 
intense  excitement,  —  betokened  the  close  of  the  harangue ; 
and  then  you  might  see,  after  a  minute's  pause,  the  crowd 
breaking  in  all  directions,  and  pouring  down  the  avenues  in 
various  knots  and  groups,  each  testifying  the  strong  and 
lasting  impression  made  upon  the  multitude  by  that  address. 
Every  cheek  was  flushed,  every  tongue  spoke ;  the  animation 
of  the  orator  had  passed  like  a  living  spirit  into  the  breasts  of 
the  audience.  He  had  thundered  against  the  disorders  of  the 
patricians,  yet  by  a  word  he  had  disarmed  the  anger  of  the 
plebeians;  he  had  preached  freedom,  yet  he  had  opposed 
license.  He  had  calmed  the  present  by  a  promise  of  the 
future.  He  had  chid  their  quarrels,  yet  had  supported  their 
cause.  He  had  mastered  the  revenge  of  to-day  by  a  solemn 
assurance  that  there  should  come  justice  for  the  morrow.  So 
great  may  be  the  power,  so  mighty  the  eloquence,  so  formida- 
ble the  genius,  of  one  man,  without  arms,  without  rank,  with- 
out sword  or  ermine,  who  addresses  himself  to  a  people  that 
is  oppressed! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

AN   ADVENTURE. 

AVOIDING  the  broken  streams  of  the  dispersed  crowd,  Adrian 
Colonna  strode  rapidly  down  one  of  the  narrow  streets  leading 
to  his  palace,  which  was  situated  at  no  inconsiderable  distance 
from  the  place  in  which  the  late  contest  had  occurred.  The 
education  of  his  life  made  him  feel  a  profound  interest,  not 
only  in  the  divisions  and  disputes  of  his  country,  but  also  in 
the  scene  he  had  just  witnessed,  and  the  authority  exercised 
by  Eienzi. 

An  orphan  of  a  younger,  but  opulent  branch  of  the  Colonna, 
Adrian  had  been  brought  up  under  the  care  and  guardianship 
of  his  kinsman,  that  astute,  yet  valiant  Stephen  Colonna,  who 


28  RIENZI : 

of  all  the  nobles  of  Rome  was  the  most  powerful,  alike  from 
the  favor  of  the  Pope  and  the  number  of  armed  hirelings  whom 
his  wealth  enabled  him  to  maintain.  Adrian  had  early  mani- 
fested what  in  that  age  was  considered  an  extraordinary  dis- 
position towards  intellectual  pursuits,  and  had  acquired  much 
of  the  little  that  was  then  known  of  the  ancient  language  and 
the  ancient  history  of  his  country. 

Though  Adrian  was  but  a  boy  at  the  time  in  which,  first 
presented  to  the  reader,  he  witnessed  the  emotions  of  Hienzi 
at  the  death  of  his  brother,  his  kind  heart  had  been  penetrated 
with  sympathy  for  Cola's  affliction,  and  shame  for  the  apathy 
of  his  kinsmen  at  the  result  of  their  own  feuds.  He  had  earn- 
estly sought  the  friendship  of  Rienzi,  and,  despite  his  years, 
had  become  aware  of  the  power  and  energy  of  his  character. 
But  though  Eienzi,  after  a  short  time,  had  appeared  to  think 
no  more  of  his  brother's  death,  though  he  again  entered  the 
halls  of  the  Colonna  and  shared  their  disdainful  hospitalities, 
he  maintained  a  certain  distance  and  reserve  of  manner,  which 
even  Adrian  could  only  partially  overcome.  He  rejected  every 
offer  of  service,  favor,  or  promotion ;  and  any  unwonted  proof 
of  kindness  from  Adrian  seemed,  instead  of  making  him  more 
familiar,  to  offend  him  into  colder  distance.  The  easy  humor 
and  conversational  vivacity  which  had  first  rendered  him  a 
welcome  guest  with  those  who  passed  their  lives  between  fight- 
ing and  feasting,  had  changed  into  a  vein  ironical,  cynical, 
and  severe.  But  the  dull  barons  were  equally  amused  at  his 
wit,  and  Adrian  was  almost  the  only  one  who  detected  the 
serpent  couched  beneath  the  smile. 

Often  Eienzi  sat  at  the  feast  silent,  but  observant,  as  if 
watching  every  look,  weighing  every  word,  taking  gauge  and 
measurement  of  the  intellect,  policy,  temperament,  of  every 
guest ;  and  when  he  had  seemed  to  satisfy  himself,  his  spirits 
would  rise,  his  words  flow ;  and  while  his  dazzling  but  bitter 
wit  lit  up  the  revel,  none  saw  that  the  unmirthful  flash  was 
the  token  of  the  coming  storm.  But  all  the  while  he  neglected 
no  occasion  to  mix  with  the  humbler  citizens,  to  stir  up  their 
minds,  to  inflame  their  imaginations,  to  kindle  their  emula- 
tion, with  pictures  of  the  present  and  with  legends  of  the 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  29 

past.  He  grew  in  popularity  and  repute,  and  was  yet  more 
in  power  with  the  herd,  because  in  favor  with  the  nobles. 
Perhaps  it  was  for  that  reason  that  he  had  continued  the 
guest  of  the  Colonna. 

When,  six  years  before  the  present  date,  the  Capitol  of  the 
Caesars  witnessed  the  triumph  of  Petrarch,  the  scholastic  fame 
of  the  young  Rienzi  had  attracted  the  friendship  of  the  poet,  — 
a  friendship  that  continued,  with  slight  interruption,  to  the 
last,  through  careers  so  widely  different ;  and  afterwards,  one 
among  the  Roman  deputies  to  Avignon,  he  had  been  conjoined 
with  Petrarch l  to  supplicate  Clement  VI.  to  remove  the  Holy 
See  from  Avignon  to  Rome.  It  was  in  this  mission  that,  for 
the  first  time,  he  evinced  his  extraordinary  powers  of  eloquence 
and  persuasion.  The  pontiff,  indeed,  more  desirous  of  ease 
than  glory,  was  not  convinced  by  the  arguments,  but  he  was 
enchanted  with  the  pleader;  and  Rienzi  returned  to  Rome 
loaded  with  honors,  and  clothed  with  the  dignity  of  high  and 
responsible  office.  No  longer  the  inactive  scholar,  the  gay 
companion,  he  rose  at  once  to  pre-eminence  above  all  his  fellow- 
citizens.  Never  before  had  authority  been  borne  with  so  aus- 
tere an  integrity,  so  uncorrupt  a  zeal.  He  had  sought  to 
impregnate  his  colleagues  with  the  same  loftiness  of  princi- 
ple ;  he  had  failed.  Now  secure  in  his  footing,  he  had  begun 
openly  to  appeal  to  the  people;  and  already  a  new  spirit 
seemed  to  animate  the  populace  of  Rome. 

While  these  were  the  fortunes  of  Rienzi,  Adrian  had  been 
long  separated  from  him,  and  absent  from  Rome. 

The  Colonna  were  stanch  supporters  of  the  imperial  party, 
and  Adrian  di  Castello  had  received  and  obeyed  an  invitation 
to  the  Emperor's  Court.  Under  that  monarch  he  had  initiated 
himself  in  arms,  and  among  the  knights  of  Germany  he  had 
learned  to  temper  the  natural  Italian  shrewdness  with  the 
chivalry  of  Northern  valor. 

In  leaving  Bavaria  he  had  sojourned  a  short  time  in  the 

1  According  to  the  modern  historians ;  but  it  seems  more  probable  that 
Rienzi's  mission  to  Avignon  was  posterior  to  that  of  Petrarch.  However  this 
be,  it  was  at  Avignon  that  Petrarch  and  Rienzi  became  most  intimate,  as 
Petrarch  himself  observes  in  one  of  his  letters. 


80  RIENZI : 

solitude  of  one  of  his  estates  by  the  fairest  lake  of  Northern 
Italy ;  and  thence,  with  a  mind  improved  alike  by  action  and 
study,  had  visited  many  of  the  free  Italian  states,  imbibed 
sentiments  less  prejudiced  than  those  of  his  order,  and  acquired 
an  early  reputation  for  himself  while  inly  marking  the  char- 
acters and  deeds  of  others.  In  him  the  best  qualities  of  the 
Italian  noble  were  united.  Passionately  addicted  to  the  culti- 
vation of  letters,  subtle  and  profound  in  policy,  gentle  and 
bland  of  manner,  dignifying  a  love  of  pleasure  with  a  certain 
elevation  of  taste,  he  yet  possessed  a  gallantry  of  conduct  and 
purity  of  honor,  and  an  aversion  from  cruelty,  which  were 
then  very  rarely  found  in  the  Italian  temperament,  and  which 
even  the  Chivalry  of  the  North,  while  maintaining  among 
themselves,  usually  abandoned  the  moment  they  came  into 
contact  with  the  systematic  craft  and  disdain  of  honesty 
which  made  the  character  of  the  ferocious,  yet  wily  South. 
With  these  qualities  he  combined,  indeed,  the  softer  passions 
of  his  countrymen,  —  he  adored  Beauty,  and  he  made  a  deity 
of  Love. 

He  had  but  a  few  weeks  returned  to  his  native  city,  whither 
his  reputation  had  already  preceded  him,  and  where  his  early 
affection  for  letters  and  gentleness  of  bearing  were  still  remem- 
bered. He  returned  to  find  the  position  of  Kienzi  far  more 
altered  than  his  own.  Adrian  had  not  yet  sought  the  scholar. 
He  wished  first  to  judge  with  his  own  eyes,  and  at  a  distance, 
of  the  motives  and  object  of  his  conduct ;  for  partly  he  caught 
the  suspicions  which  his  own  order  entertained  of  Eienzi, 
and  partly  he  shared  in  the  trustful  enthusiasm  of  the 
people. 

"  Certainly,"  said  he  now  to  himself,  as  he  walked  musingly 
onward,  "  certainly  no  man  has  it  more  in  his  power  to  reform 
our  diseased  state,  to  heal  our  divisions,  to  awaken  our  citizens 
to  the  recollections  of  ancestral  virtue.  But  that  very  power, 
how  dangerous  is  it !  Have  I  not  seen,  in  the  free  states  of 
Italy,  men,  called  into  authority  for  the  sake  of  preserving  the 
people,  honest  themselves  at  first,  and  then,  drunk  with  the 
sudden  rank,  betraying  the  very  cause  which  had  exalted  them  ? 
True,  those  men  were  chiefs  and  nobles ;  but  are  plebeians  less 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  31 

human  ?  Howbeit  I  have  heard  and  seen  enough  from  afar ; 
I  will  now  approach,  and  examine  the  man  himself." 

While  thus  soliloquizing,  Adrian  but  little  noted  the  various 
passengers,  who,  more  and  more  rarely  as  the  evening  waned, 
hastened  homeward.  Among  these  were  two  females,  who  now 
alone  shared  with  Adrian  the  long  and  gloomy  street  into 
which  he  had  entered.  The  moon  was  already  bright  in  the 
heavens,  and  as  the  women  passed  the  cavalier  with  a  light  and 
quick  step,  the  younger  one  turned  back  and  regarded  him  by 
the  clear  light  with  an  eager,  yet  timid  glance. 

"  Why  dost  thou  tremble,  my  pretty  one  ?  "  said  her  com- 
panion, who  might  have  told  some  five  and  forty  years,  and 
whose  garb  and  voice  bespoke  her  of  inferior  rank  to  the  younger 
female.  "  The  streets  seem  quiet  enough  now,  and,  the  Virgin 
be  praised !  we  are  not  so  far  from  home  either." 

"  Oh,  Benedetta,  it  is  he !  it  is  the  young  signer ;  it  is 
Adrian ! " 

"That  is  fortunate,"  said  the  nurse,  for  such  was  her 
condition,  "  since  they  say  he  is  as  bold  as  a  Northman ;  and  as 
the  Palazzo  Colonna  is  not  very  far  from  hence,  we  shall  be 
within  reach  of  his  aid,  should  we  want  it,  —  that  is  to  say, 
sweet  one,  if  you  will  walk  a  little  slower  than  you  have  yet 
done."  t 

The  young  lady  slackened  her  pace,  and  sighed. 

"  He  is  certainly  very  handsome,"  quoth  the  nurse ;  "but  thou 
must  not  think  more  of  him,  —  he  is  too  far  above  thee  f or 
marriage,  and  for  aught  else  thou  art  too  honest  and  thy  brother 
too  proud  —  " 

"  And  thou,  Benedetta,  art  too  quick  with  thy  tongue.  How 
canst  thou  talk  thus,  when  thou  knowest  he  hath  never,  since, 
at  least,  I  was  a  mere  child,  even  addressed  me  ?  Nay,  he 
scarce  knows  of  my  very  existence.  He,  the  Lord  Adrian  di 
Castello,  dream  of  the  poor  Irene !  The  mere  thought  is 
madness ! " 

"  Then  why,"  said  the  nurse,  briskly,  "  dost  thou  dream  of 
him  ?  " 

Her  companion  sighed  again  more  deeply  than  at  first. 

"Holy  Saint  Catherine ! "  continued  Benedetta,  "  if  there  were 


82  RIENZI : 

but  one  man  in  the  world,  I  would  die  single  ere  I  would  think 
of  him,  —  until,  at  least,  he  had  kissed  my  hand  twice,  and  left 
it  my  own  fault  if  it  were  not  my  lips  instead." 

The  young  lady  still  replied  not. 

"  But  how  didst  thou  contrive  to  love  him  ?  "  asked  the  nurse. 
"  Thou  canst  not  have  seen  him  very  often ;  it  is  but  some  four 
or  five  weeks  since  his  return  to  Rome." 

"  Oh,  how  dull  art  thou ! "  answered  the  fair  Irene.  "  Have 
I  not  told  thee,  again  and  again,  that  I  loved  him  six  years 
ago?" 

"  When  thou  hadst  told  but  thy  tenth  year,  and  a  doll  would 
have  been  thy  most  suitable  lover !  As  I  am  a  Christian, 
Signora,  thou  hast  made  good  use  of  thy  time ! " 

"And  during  his  absence,"  continued  the  girl,  fondly,  yet 
sadly,  "  did  I  not  hear  him  spoken  of,  and  was  not  the  mere 
sound  of  his  name  like  a  love-gift  that  bade  me  remember  ? 
And  when  they  praised  him,  have  I  not  rejoiced ;  and  when 
they  blamed  him,  have  I  not  resented  ?  And  when  they  said 
that  his  lance  was  victorious  in  the  tourney,  did  I  not  weep 
with  pride ;  and  when  they  whispered  that  his  vows  were  wel- 
come in  the  bower,  wept  I  not  as  fervently  with  grief  ?  Have 
not  the  six  years  of  his  absence  been  a  dream,  and  was  not  his 
return  a  waking  into  light,  —  a  morning  of  glory  and  the  sun  ? 
And  I  see  him  now  in  the  church  when  he  wots  not  of  me,  and 
on  his  happy  steed  as  he  passes  by  my  lattice ;  and  is  not  that 
enough  of  happiness  for  love  ?  " 

"But  if  he  loves  not  thee ?" 

"  Fool !  I  ask  not  that,  —  nay,  I  know  not  if  I  wish  it.  Per- 
haps I  would  rather  dream  of  him  such  as  I  would  have  him, 
than  know  him  for  what  he  is.  He  might  be  unkind,  or  un- 
generous, or  love  me  but  little  ;  rather  would  I  not  be  loved  at 
all  than  loved  coldly,  and  eat  away  my  heart  by  comparing  it 
with  his.  I  can  love  him  now  as  something  abstract,  unreal, 
and  divine ;  but  what  would  be  my  shame,  my  grief,  if  I  were 
to  find  him  less  than  I  have  imagined !  Then,  indeed,  my  life 
would  have  been  wasted ;  then,  indeed,  the  beauty  of  the  earth 
would  be  gone ! " 

The  good  nurse  was  not  very  capable  of  sympathizing  with 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  33 

sentiments  like  these.  Even  had  their  characters  been  more 
alike,  their  disparity  of  age  would  have  rendered  such  sym- 
pathy impossible.  What  but  youth  can  echo  back  the  soul  of 
youth,  —  all  the  music  of  its  wild  vanities  and  romantic  follies  ? 
The  good  nurse  did  not  sympathize  with  the  sentiments  of  her 
young  lady,  but  she  sympathized  with  the  deep  earnestness 
with  which  they  were  expressed.  She  thought  it  wondrous 
silly,  but  wondrous  moving;  she  wiped  her  eyes  with  the 
corner  of  her  veil,  and  hoped  in  her  secret  heart  that  her 
young  charge  would  soon  get  a  real  husband,  to  put  such  un- 
substantial fantasies  out  of  her  head.  There  was  a  short  pause 
in  their  conversation,  when,  just  where  two  streets  crossed  one 
another,  there  was  heard  a  loud  noise  of  laughing  voices  and 
trampling  feet.  Torches  were  seen  on  high,  affronting  the 
pale  light  of  the  moon ;  and  at  a  very  short  distance  from  the 
two  females,  in  the  cross  street,  advanced  a  company  of  seven 
or  eight  men,  bearing,  as  seen  by  the  red  light  of  the  torches, 
the  formidable  badge  of  the  Orsini. 

Amidst  the  other  disorders  of  the  time,  it  was  no  infrequent 
custom  for  the  younger  or  more  dissolute  of  the  nobles,  in 
small  and  armed  companies,  to  parade  the  streets  at  night, 
seeking  occasion  for  a  licentious  gallantry  among  the  cowering 
citizens,  or  a  skirmish  at  arms  with  some  rival  stragglers  of 
their  own  order.  Such  a  band  had  Irene  and  her  companion 
now  chanced  to  encounter. 

"Holy  Mother!"  cried  Benedetta,  turning  pale,  and  half 
running,  "  what  curse  has  befallen  us  ?  How  could  we  have 
been  so  foolish  as  to  tarry  so  late  at  the  Lady  Nina's  !  Run, 
Signora,  run,  or  we  shall  fall  into  their  hands ! " 

But  the  advice  of  Benedetta  came  too  late,  —  the  fluttering 
garments  of  the  women  had  been  already  descried;  in  a 
moment  more  they  were  surrounded  by  the  marauders.  A 
rude  hand  tore  aside  Benedetta's  veil,  and  at  sight  of  features, 
which,  if  time  had  not  spared,  it  could  never  very  materially 
injure,  the  rough  aggressor  cast  the  poor  nurse  against  the 
wall  with  a  curse,  which  was  echoed  by  a  loud  laugh  from  his 
comrades. 

"  Thou  hast  a  fine  fortune  in  faces,  Giuseppe  1 " 

VOL.    I.  —  3 


34  RIENZI : 

"  Yes ;  it  was  but  the  other  day  that  tie  seized  on  a  girl  of 
sixty." 

"  And  then,  by  way  of  improving  her  beauty,  cut  her  across 
the  face  with  his  dagger  because  she  was  not  sixteen !  " 

"  Hush,  fellows !  whom  have  we  here  ? "  said  the  chief  of 
the  party,  a  man  richly  dressed,  and  who,  though  bordering 
upon  middle  age,  had  only  the  more  accustomed  himself  to 
the  excesses  of  youth ;  as  he  spoke,  he  snatched  the  trembling 
Irene  from  the  grasp  of  his  followers.  "  Ho,  there,  the  torches ! 
Oh  die  bella  faccia  !  what  blushes,  what  eyes !  Nay,  look  not 
down,  pretty  one ;  thou  needst  not  be  ashamed  to  win  the  love 
of  an  Orsini !  Yes ;  know  the  triumph  thou  hast  achieved,  — 
it  is  Martino  di  Porto  who  bids  thee  smile  upon  him ! " 

"  For  the  blest  Mother's  sake  release  me !  Nay,  sir,  this  must 
not  be ;  I  am  not  unfriended,  —  this  insult  shall  not  pass ! " 

"  Hark  to  her  silver  chiding ;  it  is  better  than  my  best 
hound's  bay !  This  adventure  is  worth  a  month's  watching. 
What,  will  you  not  come  ?  Restive,  shrieks  too !  Francesco, 
Pietro, — ye  are  the  gentlest  of  the  band, — wrap  her  veil 
around  her;  muffle  this  music.  So!  bear  her  before  me  to 
the  palace,  and  to-morrow,  sweet  one,  thou  shalt  go  home 
with  a  basket  of  florins,  which  thou  mayst  say  thou  hast 
bought  at  market." 

But  Irene's  shrieks,  Irene's  struggles,  had  already  brought 
succor  to  her  side;  and  as  Adrian  approached  the  spot,  the 
nurse  flung  herself  on  her  knees  before  him. 

"  Oh,  sweet  Signor,  for  Christ's  grace  save  us !  Deliver  my 
young  mistress;  her  friends  love  you  well!  We  are  all  for 
the  Colonna,  my  lord,  —  yes,  indeed,  all  for  the  Colonna ! 
Save  the  kin  of  your  own  clients,  gracious  Signor ! " 

"  It  is  enough  that  she  is  a  woman,"  answered  Adrian,  add- 
ing, between  his  teeth,  "  and  that  an  Orsini  is  her  assailant." 
He  strode  haughtily  into  the  thickest  of  the  group ;  the  ser- 
vitors laid  hands  on  their  swords,  but  gave  way  before  him  as 
they  recognized  his  person ;  he  reached  the  two  men  who  had 
already  seized  Irene ;  in  one  moment  he  struck  the  foremost 
to  the  ground,  in  another  he  had  passed  his  left  arm  round  the 
light  and  slender  form  of  the  maiden,  and  stood  confronting 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  35 

the  Orsini  with  his  drawn  blade,  which,  however,  he  pointed 
to  the  ground. 

"  For  shame,  my  lord,  for  shame ! "  said  he,  indignantly. 
"  Will  you  force  Rome  to  rise,  to  a  man,  against  our  order  ? 
Vex  not  too  far  the  lion,  chained  though  he  be ;  war  against  us 
if  ye  will ;  draw  your  blades  upon  men,  though  they  be  of  your 
own  race,  and  speak  your  own  tongue :  but  if  ye  would  sleep  at 
nights  and  not  dread  the  avenger's  gripe,  if  ye  would  walk  the 
market-place  secure,  wrong  not  a  Roman  woman !  Yes,  the 
very  walls  around  us  preach  to  you  the  punishment  of  such 
a  deed.  For  that  offence  fell  the  Tarquins ;  for  that  offence 
were  swept  away  the  Decemvirs ;  for  that  offence,  if  ye  rush 
upon  it,  the  blood  of  your  whole  house  may  flow  like  water. 
Cease  then,  my  lord,  from  this  mad  attempt,  so  unworthy  your 
great  name ;  cease,  and  thank  even  a  Colonna  that  he  has  come 
between  you  and  a  moment's  frenzy !  " 

So  noble,  so  lofty  were  the  air  and  gesture  of  Adrian  as  he 
thus  spoke,  that  even  the  rude  servitors  felt  a  thrill  of  appro- 
bation and  remorse.  Not  so  Martino  di  Porto.  He  had  been 
struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  prey  thus  suddenly  snatched 
from  him;  he  had  been  accustomed  to  long  outrage  and  to 
long  impunity ;  the  very  sight,  the  very  voice  of  a  Colonna, 
was  a  blight  to  his  eye,  and  a  discord  to  his  ear :  what,  then, 
when  a  Colonna  interfered  with  his  lusts  and  rebuked  his 
vices? 

"  Pedant ! "  he  cried,  with  quivering  lips,  "  prate  not  to  me 
of  thy  vain  legends  and  gossip's  tales;  think  not  to  snatch 
from  me  my  possession  in  another,  when  thine  own  life  is  in 
my  hands !  Unhand  the  maiden,  throw  down  thy  sword, 
return  home  without  further  parley ;  or  by  my  faith  and  the 
blades  of  my  followers  —  look  at  them  well  —  thou  diest !  " 

"Signor,"  said  Adrian,  calmly,  yet  while  he  spoke  he  re- 
treated gradually  with  his  fair  burden  towards  the  neighboring 
wall,  so  as  at  least  to  leave  only  his  front  exposed  to  those 
fearful  odds,  "  thou  wilt  not  so  misuse  the  present  chances,  and 
wrong  thyself  in  men's  mouths,  as  to  attack  with  eight  swords 
even  thy  hereditary  foe,  thus  cumbered,  too,  as  he  is.  But  — 
nay,  hold !  —  if  thou  art  so  proposed,  bethink  thee  well,  one  cry 


36  11IKXZI: 

of  my  voice  would  soon  turn  the  odds  against  thee.  Thou  art 
now  in  the  quarter  of  my  tribe ;  thou  art  surrounded  by  the 
habitations  of  the  Colonna ;  yon  palace  swarms  with  men  who 
sleep  not,  save  with  harness  on  their  backs,  —  men  whom  my 
voice  can  reach  even  now,  but  from  whom,  if  they  once  taste 
of  blood,  it  could  not  save  thee  ! " 

"  He  speaks  true,  noble  lord,"  said  one  of  the  band ;  "  we 
have  wandered  too  far  out  of  our  beat,  —  we  are  in  their  very 
den ;  the  palace  of  old  Stephen  Colonna  is  within  call ;  and  to 
my  knowledge,"  added  he,  in  a  whisper,  "  eighteen  fresh  men- 
of-arms  —  ay,  and  Northmen  too  —  marched  through  its  gates 
this  day." 

"  "\Vere  there  eight  hundred  men  at  arm's  length,"  answered 
Martino,  furiously,  "  I  would  not  be  thus  bearded  amidst  mine 
own  train.  Away  with  yon  woman!  To  the  attack,  to  the 
attack ! " 

Thus  saying,  he  made  a  desperate  lunge  at  Adrian,  who, 
having  kept  his  eye  cautiously  on  the  movements  of  his 
enemy,  was  not  unprepared  for  the  assault.  As  he  put  aside 
the  blade  with  his  own  he  shouted  with  a  loud  voice :  "  Colonna ! 
to  the  rescue,  Colonna ! " 

Nor  had  it  been  without  an  ulterior  object  that  the  acute 
and  self-controlling  mind  of  Adrian  had  hitherto  sought  to 
prolong  the  parley.  Even  as  he  first  addressed  Orsini,  he 
had  perceived,  by  the  moonlight,  the  glitter  of  armor  upon 
two  men  advancing  from  the  far  end  of  the  street,  and  judged 
at  once,  by  the  neighborhood,  that  they  must  be  among  the 
mercenaries  of  the  Colonna. 

Gently  he  suffered  the  form  of  Irene,  which  now  —  for  she 
had  swooned  with  the  terror  —  pressed  too  heavily  upon  him, 
to  slide  from  his  left  arm,  and  standing  over  her  form  while 
sheltered  from  behind  by  the  wall  which  he  had  so  warily 
gained,  he  contented  himself  with  parrying  the  blows  hastily 
aimed  at  him,  without  attempting  to  retaliate.  Few  of  the 
Romans,  however  accustomed  to  such  desultory  warfare,  were 
then  well  and  dexterously  practised  in  the  use  of  arms ;  and 
the  science  Adrian  had  acquired  in  the  schools  of  the  martial 
North  befriended  him  now,  even  against  such  odds.  It  is 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  37 

true,  indeed,  that  the  followers  of  Orsini  did  not  share  the 
fury  of  their  lord ;  partly  afraid  of  the  consequences  to  them- 
selves should  the  blood  of  so  high-born  a  signer  be  split  by 
their  hands,  partly  embarrassed  with  the  apprehension  that 
they  should  see  themselves  suddenly  beset  with  the  ruthless 
hirelings  so  close  within  hearing,  they  struck  but  aimless  and 
random  blows,  looking  every  moment  behind  and  aside,  and 
rather  prepared  for  flight  than  slaughter.  Echoing  the  cry 
of  "  Colonna,"  poor  Benedetta  fled  at  the  first  clash  of  swords. 
She  ran  down  the  dreary  street  still  shrieking  that  cry,  and 
passed  the  very  portals  of  Stephen's  palace  (where  some  grim 
forms  yet  loitered)  without  arresting  her  steps  there,  so  great 
were  her  confusion  and  terror. 

Meanwhile  the  two  armed  men  whom  Adrian  had  descried, 
proceeded  leisurely  up  the  street.  The  one  was  of  a  rude  and 
common  mould ;  his  arms  and  his  complexion  testified  his 
calling  and  race,  and  by  the  great  respect  he  paid  to  his  com- 
panion, it  was  evident  that  that  companion  was  no  native  of 
Italy.  For  the  brigands  of  the  North,  while  they  served  the 
vices  of  the  Southern,  scarce  affected  to  disguise  their  contempt 
for  his  cowardice. 

The  companion  of  the  brigand  was  a  man  of  a  martial,  yet 
easy  air.  He  wore  no  helmet,  but  a  cap  of  crimson  velvet,  set 
off  with  a  white  plume;  on  his  mantle,  or  surcoat,  which- was 
of  scarlet,  was  wrought  a  broad  white  cross,  both  at  back  and 
breast ;  and  so  brilliant  was  the  polish  of  his  corselet  that  as 
from  time  to  time  the  mantle  waved  aside  and  exposed  it  to 
the  moonbeams,  it  glittered  like  light  itself. 

"  Nay,  Eodolf,"  said  he,  "  if  thou  hast  so  good  a  lot  of  it 
here  with  that  hoary  schemer,  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  wish 
to  draw  thee  back  again  to  our  merry  band.  But  tell  me,  this 
Eienzi,  thinkest  thou  he  has  any  solid  and  formidable  power  ?  " 

"  Pshaw !  noble  chieftain,  not  a  whit  of  it.  He  pleases  the 
mob ;  but  as  for  the  nobles,  they  laugh  at  him,  and  as  for  the 
soldiers,  he  has  no  money." 

"  He  pleases  the  mob,  then  ?  " 

"  Ay,  that  doth  he ;  and  when  he  speaks  aloud  to  them,  aU 
the  roar  of  Rome  is  hushed." 


88  RTENZI : 

"  Humph !  when  nobles  are  hated  and  soldiers  are  bought,  a 
mob  may  in  any  hour  become  the  master.  An  honest  people 
and  a  weak  mob,  a  corrupt  people  and  a  strong  mob,"  said  the 
other,  rather  to  himself  than  to  his  comrade,  and  scarce,  per- 
haps, conscious  of  the  eternal  truth  of  his  aphorism.  "  He  is 
no  mere  brawler,  this  Rienzi,  I  suspect;  I  must  see  to  it. 
Hark !  what  noise  is  that  ?  By  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  it  is  the 
ring  of  our  own  metal ! " 

"  And  that  cry,  '  a  Colonna ! ' "  exclaimed  Eodolf.  "  Pardon 
me,  master ;  I  must  away  to  the  rescue  ! " 

"Ay,  it  is  the  duty  of  thy  hire;  run,  —  yet  stay,  I  will 
accompany  thee,  gratis  for  once,  and  from  pure  passion  for 
mischief.  By  this  hand,  there  is  no  music  like  clashing 
steel ! " 

Still  Adrian  continued  gallantly  and  unwounded  to  defend 
himself,  though  his  arm  now  grew  tired,  his  breath  wellnigh 
spent,  and  his  eyes  began  to  wink  and  reel  beneath  the 
glare  of  the  tossing  torches.  Orsini  himself,  exhausted  by 
his  fury,  had  paused  for  an  instant,  fronting  his  foe  with  a 
heaving  breast  and  savage  looks,  when  suddenly  his  follow- 
ers exclaimed,  "Fly!  fly!  the  bandits  approach;  we  are  sur- 
rounded ! "  and  two  of  the  servitors,  without  further  parley, 
took  fairly  to  their  heels.  The  other  five  remained  irresolute, 
and  waiting  but  the  command  of  their  master,  when  he  of  the 
white  plume,  whom  I  have  just  described,  thrust  himself  into 
the  melee. 

"What!  gentles,"  said  he,  "have  ye  finished  already? 
Nay,  let  us  not  mar  the  sport;  begin  again,  I  beseech  you. 
What  are  the  odds  ?  Ho !  six  to  one !  Nay,  no  wonder  that 
ye  have  waited  for  fairer  play.  See,  we  two  will  take  the 
weaker  side.  Now,  then,  let  us  begin  again." 

"  Insolent ! "  cried  the  Orsini.  "  Knowest  thou  him  whom 
thou  addressest  thus  arrogantly  ?  I  am  Martino  di  Porto. 
Who  art  thou?" 

"  Walter  de  Montreal,  gentleman  of  Provence  and  Knight  of 
St.  John ! "  answered  the  other,  carelessly. 

At  that  redoubted  name  —  the  name  of  one  of  the  boldest 
warriors  and  of  the  most  accomplished  freebooter  of  his  time 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  39 

—  even  Martino's  cheek  grew  pale,  and  his  followers  uttered  a 
cry  of  terror. 

"And  this  my  comrade,"  continued  the  Knight,  "for  we 
may  as  well  complete  the  introduction,  is  probably  better 
known  to  you  than  I  am,  gentles  of  Home  ;  and  you  doubtless 
recognize  in  him  Rodolf  of  Saxony,  a  brave  man  and  a  true, 
where  he  is  properly  paid  for  his  services." 

"  Signor,"  said  Adrian  to  his  enemy,  who,  aghast  and  dumb, 
remained  staring  vacantly  at  the  two  new-comers,  "  you  are  now 
in  my  power.  See,  our  own  people,  too,  are  approaching." 

And  indeed  from  the  palace  of  Stephen  Colonna  torches  began 
to  blaze,  and  armed  men  were  seen  rapidly  advancing  to  the  spot. 

"Go  home  in  peace;  and  if  to-morrow,  or  any  day  more 
suitable  to  thee,  thou  wilt  meet  me  alone  and  lance  to  lance, 
as  is  the  wont  of  the  knights  of  the  Empire,  or  with  band  to 
band  and  man  for  man,  as  is  rather  the  Roman  custom,  I  will 
not  fail  thee :  there  is  my  gage." 

"  Nobly  spoken,"  said  Montreal ;  "  and  if  ye  choose  the  lat- 
ter, by  your  leave,  I  will  be  one  of  the  party." 

Martino  answered  not.  He  took  up  the  glove,  thrust  it  in 
his  bosom,  and  strode  hastily  away;  only,  when  he  had  got 
some  paces  down  the  street,  he  turned  back,  and,  shaking  his 
clenched  hand  at  Adrian,  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
impotent  rage,  "  Faithful  to  death ! " 

The  words  made  one  of  the  mottoes  of  the  Orsini;  and 
whatever  its  earlier  signification,  had  long  passed  into  a  cur- 
rent proverb  to  signify  their  hatred  to  the  Colonna. 

Adrian,  now  engaged  in  raising  and  attempting  to  revive 
Irene,  who  was  still  insensible,  disdainfully  left  it  to  Montreal 
to  reply. 

"I  doubt  not,  Signor,"  said  the  latter,  coolly,  "that  thou 
wilt  be  faithful  to  Death;  for  Death,  God  wot,  is  the  only 
contract  which  men,  however  ingenious,  are  unable  to  break 
or  evade." 

"  Pardon  me,  gentle  Knight,"  said  Adrian,  looking  up  from 
his  charge,  "if  I  do  not  yet  give  myself  wholly  to  gratitude. 
I  have  learned  enough  of  knighthood  to  feel  thou  wilt  acknow- 
ledge that  my  first  duty  is  here  —  " 


40  RIENZI : 

"  Oh !  a  lady,  then,  was  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  ?  I  need 
not  ask  who  was  in  the  right,  when  a  man  brings  to  the  riv- 
alry such  odds  as  yon  caitiff." 

"Thou  mistakest  a  little,  Sir  Knight;  it  is  but  a  lanib  I 
have  rescued  from  the  wolf." 

"  For  thy  own  table !    Be  it  so ! "  returned  the  Knight,  gayly. 

Adrian  smiled  gravely,  and  shook  his  head  in  denial.  In 
truth,  he  was  somewhat  embarrassed  by  his  situation.  Though 
habitually  gallant,  he  was  not  willing  to  expose  to  misconstruc- 
tion the  disinterestedness  of  his  late  conduct,  and  (for  it  was 
his  policy  to  conciliate  popularity)  to  sully  the  credit  which 
his  bravery  would  give  him  among  the  citizens  by  conveying 
Irene  (whose  beauty,  too,  as  yet,  he  had  scarcely  noted)  to  his 
own  dwelling ;  and  yet,  in  her  present  situation,  there  was  no 
alternative.  She  evinced  no  sign  of  life.  He  knew  not  her 
home,  nor  parentage.  Benedetta  had  vanished.  He  could  not 
leave  her  in  the  streets,  he  could  not  resign  her  to  the  care 
of  another ;  and  as  she  lay  now  upon  his  breast,  he  felt  her 
already  endeared  to  him  by  that  sense  of  protection  which  is  so 
grateful  to  the  human  heart.  He  briefly,  therefore,  explained 
to  those  now  gathered  round  him  his  present  situation  and  the 
cause  of  the  past  conflict,  and  bade  the  torch-bearers  precede 
him  to  his  home. 

"  You,  Sir  Knight,"  added  he,  turning  to  Montreal,  "  if  not 
already  more  pleasantly  lodged,  will,  I  trust,  deign  to  be  my 
guest  ?  " 

"  Thanks,  Signer,"  answered  Montreal,  maliciously ;  "  but  I 
also,  perhaps,  have  my  own  affairs  to  watch  over.  Adieu !  I 
shall  seek  you  at  the  earliest  occasion.  Fair  night,  and  gentle 

dreams ! 

"  '  Robers  Bertrams  qui  estoit  tors, 
Mais  h,  ceval  estoit  mult  fors. 
Cil  avoit  o  lui  grans  effors  ; 
Multi  ot  'homes  per  lui  mors.'  "  x 

And  muttering  this  rugged  chant  from  the  old  "Roman  de 
Rou,"  the  Proven§al,  followed  by  Rodolf,  pursued  his  way. 

1  "An  ill-favored  man,  but  a  stout  horseman,  was  Robert  Bertram.  Great 
deeds  were  his,  and  many  a  man  died  by  his  hand." 


THE   LAST   OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  41 

The  vast  extent  of  Rome  and  the  thinness  of  its  population 
left  many  of  the  streets  utterly  deserted.  The  principal  nobles 
were  thus  enabled  to  possess  themselves  of  a  wide  range  of 
buildings,  which  they  fortified,  partly  against  each  other,  partly 
against  the  people ;  their  numerous  relatives  and  clients  lived 
around  them,  forming,  as  it  were,  petty  courts  and  cities  in 
themselves. 

Almost  opposite  to  the  principal  palace  of  the  Colonna 
(occupied  by  his  powerful  kinsman,  Stephen)  was  the  mansion 
of  Adrian.  Heavily  swung  back  the  massive  gates  at  his 
approach ;  he  ascended  the  broad  staircase,  and  bore  his  charge 
into  an  apartment  which  his  tastes  had  decorated  in  a  fashion 
not  as  yet  common  in  that  age.  Ancient  statues  and  busts 
were  arranged  around ;  the  pictured  arras  of  Lornbardy  deco- 
rated the  walls  and  covered  the  massive  seats. 

"  What  ho !     Lights,  here,  and  wine !  "  cried  the  Seneschal. 

"  Let  us  alone,"  said  Adrian,  gazing  passionately  on  the  pale 
cheek  of  Irene,  as  he  now,  by  the  clear  light,  beheld  all  its 
beauty ;  and  a  sweet  yet  burning  hope  crept  into  his  heart. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     DESCRIPTION     OF    A     CONSPIRATOR,     AND    THE    DAWN     OF 
THE     CONSPIRACY. 

ALONE,  by  a  table  covered  with  various  papers,  sat  a  man 
in  the  prime  of  life.  The  chamber  was  low  and  long ;  many 
antique  and  disfigured  bas-reliefs  and  torsos  were  placed  around 
the  wall,  interspersed,  here  and  there,  with  the  short  sword  and 
close  casque,  time-worn  relics  of  the  prowess  of  ancient  Rome. 
Right  above  the  table  at  which  he  sat,  the  moonlight  streamed 
through  a  high  and  narrow  casement,  deep  sunk  in  the  massy 
wall.  In  a  niche  to  the  right  of  this  window,  guarded  by  a 
sliding  door  which  was  now  partially  drawn  aside,  but  which, 
by  its  solid  substance  and  the  sheet  of  iron  with  which  it  was 
plated,  testified  how  valuable,  in  the  eyes  of  the  owner,  was 


42  RIEXZI : 

the  treasure  it  protected,  were  ranged  some  thirty  or  forty 
volumes,  then  deemed  no  inconsiderable  library,  and  bein^, 
for  the  most  part,  the  laborious  copies  in  manuscript  by  the 
hand  of  the  owner,  from  immortal  originals. 

Leaning  his  cheek  on  his  hand,  his  brow  somewhat  knit,  his 
lip  slightly  compressed,  that  personage  indulged  in  meditations 
far  other  than  the  indolent  dreams  of  scholars.  As  the  high  and 
still  moonlight  shone  upon  his  countenance,  it  gave  an  addi- 
tional and  solemn  dignity  to  features  which  were  naturally  of  a 
grave  and  majestic  cast.  Thick  and  auburn  hair,  the  color  of 
which,  not  common  to  the  Romans,  was  ascribed  to  his 
descent  from  the  Teuton  Emperor,  clustered  in  large  curls 
above  a  high  and  expansive  forehead;  and  even  the  present 
thoughtful  compression  of  the  brow  could  not  mar  the  aspect 
of  latent  power  which  it  derived  from  that  great  breadth 
between  the  eyes,  in  which  the  Grecian  sculptors  of  old  so 
admirably  conveyed  the  expression  of  authority,  and  the 
silent  energy  of  command.  But  his  features  were  not  cast  in 
the  Grecian,  still  less  in  the  Teuton  mould.  The  iron  jaw,  the 
aquiline  nose,  the  somewhat  sunken  cheek,  strikingly  recalled 
the  character  of  the  hard  Koman  race,  and  might  not  inaptly 
have  suggested  to  a  painter  a  model  for  the  younger  Brutus. 

The  marked  outline  of  the  face,  and  the  short,  firm  upper 
lip,  were  not  concealed  by  the  beard  and  mustaches  usually 
then  worn;  and  in  the  faded  portrait  of  the  person  now 
described,  still  extant  at  Eome,  may  be  traced  a  certain  re- 
semblance to  the  popular  pictures  of  Napoleon,  —  not  indeed 
in  the  features,  which  are  more  stern  and  prominent  in  the 
portrait  of  the  Roman,  but  in  that  peculiar  expression  of 
concentrated  and  tranquil  power  which  so  nearly  realizes  the 
ideal  of  intellectual  majesty.  Though  still  young,  the  per- 
sonal advantages  most  peculiar  to  youth,  —  the  bloom  and 
glow,  the  rounded  cheek  in  which  care  had  not  yet  ploughed 
its  lines,  the  full,  unsunken  eye,  and  the  slender  delicacy  of 
frame :  these  were  not  the  characteristics  of  that  solitary 
student.  And  though  considered  by  his  contemporaries  as 
eminently  handsome,  the  judgment  was  probably  formed  less 
from  the  more  vulgar  claims  to  such  distinction  than  from  the 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  43 

height  of  the  stature,  —  an  advantage  at  that  time  more 
esteemed  than  at  present,  —  and  that  nobler  order  of  beauty 
which  cultivated  genius  and  commanding  character  usually 
stamp  upon  even  homely  features  ;  the  more  rare  in  an  age  so 
rugged. 

The  character  of  Eienzi  (for  the  youth  presented  to  the 
reader  in  the  first  chapter  of  this  history  is  now  again  before 
him.  in  maturer  years)  had  acquired  greater  hardness  and 
energy  with  each  stepping-stone  to  power.  There  was  a  cir- 
cumstance attendant  on  his  birth  which  had  probably  ex- 
ercised great  and  early  influence  on  his  ambition.  Though 
his  parents  were  in  humble  circumstances  and  of  lowly  calling, 
his  father  was  the  natural  son  of  the  Emperor  Henry  VII. ; l 
and  it  was  the  pride  of  the  parents  that  probably  gave  to 
Rienzi  the  unwonted  advantages  of  education.  This  pride 
transmitted  to  himself  —  his  descent  from  royalty  dinned  into 
his  ear,  infused  into  his  thoughts,  from  his  cradle  —  made 
him,  even  in  his  earliest  youth,  deem  himself  the  equal  of  the 
Koman  signors,  and  half  unconsciously  aspire  to  be  their 
superior.  But  as  the  literature  of  Home  was  unfolded  to  his 
eager  eye  and  ambitious  heart,  he  became  imbued  with  that 
pride  of  country  which  is  nobler  than  the  pride  of  birth; 
and,  save  when  stung  by  allusions  to  his  origin,  he  unaffect- 
edly valued  himself  more  on  being  a  Roman  plebeian  than 
the  descendant  of  a  Teuton  king.  His  brother's  death  and  the 
vicissitudes  he  himself  had  already  undergone,  deepened  the 
earnest  and  solemn  qualities  of  his  character ;  and  at  length  all 
the  faculties  of  a  very  uncommon  intellect  were  concentrated 
into  one  object,  which  borrowed  from  a  mind  strongly  and 
mystically  religious,  as  well  as  patriotic,  a  sacred  aspect,  and 
grew  at  once  a  duty  and  a  passion. 

1  De  Sade  supposes  that  the  mother  of  Rienzi  was  the  daughter  of  an 
illegitimate  son  of  Henry  VII.,  supporting  his  opinion  from  a  MS.  in  the 
Vatican.  But  according  to  the  contemporaneous  biographer,  Rienzi,  in  ad- 
dressing Charles,  king  of  Bohemia,  claims  the  relationship  from  his  father. 
"  Di  vostro  legnaggio  sono  —  figlio  di  bastardo  d'  Enrico  imperatore,"  etc. 
A  more  recent  writer,  il  Padre  Gabrini,  cites  an  inscription  in  support  of  thia 
descent :  "  Nicolaus  Tribunus  .  .  .  Laurentii  Teutonici  Filius,"  etc. 


44  RIENZI : 

"Yes,"  said  Rienzi,  breaking  suddenly  from  his  revery, 
"yes,  the  day  is  at  hand  when  Rome  shall  rise  again  from  her 
ashes ;  Justice  shall  dethrone  Oppression ;  men  shall  walk  safe 
in  their  ancient  Forum.  We  will  rouse  from  his  forgotten 
tomb  the  indomitable  soul  of  Cato !  There  shall  be  a  people 
once  more  in  Rome !  And  I  —  I  shall  be  the  instrument  of 
that  triumph,  the  restorer  of  my  race  !  Mine  shall  be  the  first 
voice  to  swell  the  battle-cry  of  freedom  ;  mine  the  first  hand  to 
rear  her  banner.  Yes,  from  the  height  of  my  own  soul,  as 
from  a  mountain,  I  see  already  rising  the  liberties  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  New  Rome ;  and  on  the  corner-stone  of  the 
mighty  fabric  posterity  shall  read  my  name." 

Uttering  these  lofty  boasts,  the  whole  person  of  the  speaker 
seemed  instinct  with  his  ambition.  He  strode  the  gloomy 
chamber  with  light  and  rapid  steps,  as  if  on  air ;  his  breast 
heaved,  his  eyes  glowed.  He  felt  that  love  itself  can  scarcely 
bestow  a  rapture  equal  to  that  which  is  felt,  in  his  first  virgin 
enthusiasm,  by  a  patriot  who  knows  himself  sincere! 

There  was  a  slight  knock  at  the  door,  and  a  servitor,  in  the 
rich  liveries  wore  by  the  Pope's  officials,1  presented  himself. 

"Signor,"  said  he,  "my  lord  the  Bishop  of  Orvietto,  is 
without." 

"  Ha !  that  is  fortunate.  Lights  there !  My  lord,  this  is  an 
honor  which  I  can  estimate  better  than  express." 

"  Tut,  tut !  my  good  friend,"  said  the  Bishop,  entering,  and 
seating  himself  familiarly,  "  no  ceremonies  between  the  ser- 
vants of  the  Church ;  and  never,  I  ween  well,  had  she  greater 
need  of  true  friends  than  now.  These  unholy  tumults,  these 
licentious  contentions,  in  the  very  shrines  and  city  of  Saint 
Peter,  are  sufficient  to  scandalize  all  Christendom." 

"  And  so  will  it  be,"  said  Rienzi,  "  until  his  Holiness  him- 
self shall  be  graciously  persuaded  to  fix  his  residence  in  the 
seat  of  his  predecessors,  and  curb  with  a  strong  arm  the 
excesses  of  the  nobles." 

"Alas!  man,"  said  the  Bishop,  "thou  knowest  that  these 
words  are  but  as  wind ;  for  were  the  Pope  to  fulfil  thy  wishes, 

1  Not  the  present  hideous  habiliments,  which  are  said  to  have  been  the 
invention  of  Michael  Angelo. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  45 

and  remove  from  Avignon  to  Some,  by  the  blood  of  Saint 
Peter,  he  would  not  curb  the  nobles,  but  the  nobles  would 
curb  him !  Thou  knowest  well  that  until  his  blessed  pre- 
decessor, of  pious  memory,  conceived  the  wise  design  of 
escaping  to  Avignon,  the  Father  of  the  Christian  world  was  but 
like  many  other  fathers  in  their  old  age,  controlled  and 
guarded  by  his  rebellious  children.  Recollectest  thou  not  how 
the  noble  Boniface  himself,  a  man  of  great  heart  and  nerves 
of  iron,  was  kept  in  thraldom  by  the  ancestors  of  the  Orsini, 
his  entrances  and  exits  made  but  at  their  will,  so  that,  like  a 
caged  eagle,  he  beat  himself  against  his  bars  and  died? 
Verily,  thou  talkest  of  the  memories  of  Kome  ;  these  are  not 
the  memories  that  are  very  attractive  to  popes." 

"  Well,"  said  Kienzi,  laughing  gently,  and  drawing  his  seat 
nearer  to  the  Bishop's,  "  my  lord  has  certainly  the  best  of  the 
argument  at  present ;  and  I  must  own  that  strong,  licentious, 
and  unhallowed  as  the  order  of  nobility  was  then,  it  is  yet 
more  so  now." 

"Even  I,"  rejoined  Kaimond,  coloring  as  he  spoke,  "though 
Vicar  of  the  Pope,  and  representative  of  his  spiritual  authority, 
was,  but  three  days  ago,  subjected  to  a  coarse  affront  from  that 
very  Stephen  Colonna  who  has  ever  received  such  favor  and 
tenderness  from  the  Holy  See.  His  servitors  jostled  mine  in 
the  open  streets,  and  I  myself  —  I,  the  delegate  of  the  sire  of 
kings  —  was  forced  to  draw  aside  to  the  wall,  and  wait  until 
the  hoary  insolent  swept  by.  Nor  were  blaspheming  words 
wanting  to  complete  the  insult.  l  Pardon,  Lord  Bishop,'  said 
he,  as  he  passed  me,  'but  this  world,  thou  knowest,  must 
necessarily  take  precedence  of  the  other. ' ' 

"  Dared  he  so  high  ?  "  said  Eienzi,  shading  his  face  with  his 
hand,  as  a  very  peculiar  smile  —  scarcely  itself  joyous,  though  it 
made  others  gay,  and  which  completely  changed  the  character 
of  his  face,  naturally  grave  even  to  sternness  —  played  round 
his  lips.  "  Then  it  is  time  for  thee,  holy  father,  as  for  us,  to  —  " 

"  To  what  ? "  interrupted  the  Bishop,  quickly.  "  Can  we 
effect  aught  ?  Dismiss  thy  enthusiastic  dreamings  ;  descend 
to  the  real  earth;  look  soberly  round  us.  Against  men  so 
powerful,  what  can  we  do  ? " 


46  RIENZI: 

"My  lord,"  answered  Rienzi,  gravely,  "it  is  the  misfortune 
of  signors  of  your  rank  never  to  know  the  people,  or  the  accu- 
rate signs  of  the  time.  As  those  who  pass  over  the  heights 
of  mountains  see  the  clouds  sweep  below,  veiling  the  plains 
and  valleys  from  their  gaze,  while  they  only  a  little  above 
the  level  survey  the  movements  and  the  homes  of  men, 
—  even  so  from  your  lofty  eminence  ye  behold  but  the  in- 
distinct and  sullen  vapors ;  while  from  my  humbler  station  I 
see  the  preparations  of  the  shepherds  to  shelter  themselves 
and  herds  from  the  storm  which  those  clouds  betoken. 
Despair  not,  my  lord ;  endurance  goes  but  to  a  certain  limit,  — 
to  that  limit  it  is  already  stretched:  Rome  waits  but  the 
occasion  (it  will  soon  come,  but  not  suddenly)  to  rise  simul- 
taneously against  her  oppressors." 

The  great  secret  of  eloquence  is  to  be  in  earnest ;  the  great 
secret  of  Rienzi's  eloquence  was  in  the  mightiness  of  his  en- 
thusiasm. He  never  spoke  as  one  who  doubted  of  success. 
Perhaps,  like  most  men  who  undertake  high  and  great  actions, 
he  himself  was  never  thoroughly  aware  of  the  obstacles  in  his 
way.  He  saw  the  end,  bright  and  clear,  and  overleaped,  in  the 
vision  of  his  soul,  the  crosses  and  the  length  of  the  path; 
thus  the  deep  convictions  of  his  own  mind  stamped  themselves 
irresistibly  upon  others.  He  seemed  less  to  promise  than  to 
prophesy. 

The  Bishop  of  Orvietto,  not  over  wise,  yet  a  man  of  cool 
temperament  and  much  worldly  experience,  was  forcibly  im- 
pressed by  the  energy  of  his  companion,  —  perhaps,  indeed, 
the  more  so,  inasmuch  as  his  own  pride  and  his  own  passions 
were  also  enlisted  against  the  arrogance  and  license  of  tile 
nobles.  He  paused  ere  he  replied  to  Rienzi. 

"  But  is  it,"  he  asked  at  length,  "  only  the  plebeians  who  will 
rise  ?  Thou  knowest  how  they  are  caitiff  and  uncertain." 

"My  lord,"  answered  Rienzi,  "judge,  by  one  fact,  how 
strongly  I  am  surrounded  by  friends  of  no  common  class. 
Thou  knowest  how  loudly  I  speak  against  the  nobles.  I  cite 
them  by  their  name ;  I  beard  the  Savelli,  the  Orsini,  the 
Colonna,  in  their  very  hearing.  Thinkest  thou  that  they  for- 
give me  ?  Thinkest  thou  that,  were  only  the  plebeians  my 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  47 

safeguard  and  my  favorers,  they  would  not  seize  me  by  open 
force,  that  I  had  not  long  ere  this  found  a  gag  in  their  dun- 
geons, or  been  swallowed  up  in  the  eternal  dumbness  of  the 
grave  ?  Observe,"  continued  he,  as,  reading  the  Vicar's  coun- 
tenance, he  perceived  the  impression  he  had  made,  "observe 
that,  throughout  the  whole  world,  a  great  revolution  has  begun. 
The  barbaric  darkness  of  centuries  has  been  broken;  the 
KNOWLEDGE  which  made  men  as  demigods  in  the  past  time  has 
been  called  from  her  urn;  a  Power,  subtler  than  brute  force 
and  mightier  than  armed  men,  is  at  work.  We  have  begun 
once  more  to  do  homage  to  the  Royalty  of  Mind.  Yes,  that 
same  Power  which,  a  few  years  ago,  crowned  Petrarch  in  the 
Capitol,  when  it  witnessed,  after  the  silence  of  twelve  cen- 
turies, the  glories  of  a  TRIUMPH  ;  which  heaped  upon  a  man  of 
obscure  birth,  and  unknown  in  arms,  the  same  honors  given  of 
old  to  emperors  and  the  vanquishers  of  kings ;  which  united 
in  one  act  of  homage  even  the  rival  houses  of  Colonna  and 
Orsini ;  which  made  the  haughtiest  patricians  emulous  to  bear 
the  train,  to  touch  but  the  purple  robe  of  the  son  of  the  Flor- 
entine plebeian ;  which  still  draws  the  eyes  of  Europe  to  the 
lowly  cottage  of  Vaucluse ;  which  gives  to  the  humble  student 
the  all-acknowledged  license  to  admonish  tyrants,  and  ap- 
proach, with  haughty  prayers,  even  the  Father  of  the  Church ! 
yes,  that  same  Power,  which,  working  silently  throughout 
Italy,  murmurs  under  the  solid  base  of  the  Venetian  oligarchy ; 1 
which,  beyond  the  Alps,  has  wakened  into  visible  and  sudden 
life"  in  Spain,  in  Germany,  in  Flanders ;  and  which,  even  in 
that  barbarous  Isle,  conquered  by  the  Norman  sword,  ruled  by 
the  bravest  of  living  kings,2  has  roused  a  spirit  Norman  can- 
not break  —  kings  to  rule  over  must  rule  by  —  yes,  that  same 

1  It  was  abont  eight  years  afterwards  that  the  long-smothered  hate  of  the 
Venetian  people  to  that  wisest  and  most  vigilant  of  all  oligarchies,  the  Sparta 
of  Italy,  broke  out  in  the  conspiracy  under  Marino  Faliero. 

a  Edward  III.,  in  whose  reign  opinions  far  more  popular  than  those  of  the 
following  century  began  to  work.  The  Civil  Wars  threw  back  the  action 
into  the  blood.  It  was  indeed  an  age  throughout  the  world  which  put  forth 
abundant  blossoms,  but  crude  and  uuripened  fruit ;  —  a  singular  leap,  fol- 
lowed by  as  singular  a  pause. 


48  RIENZI : 

Power  is  everywhere  abroad:  it  speaks,  it  conquers  in  the 
voice  even  of  him  who  is  before  you ;  it  unites  in  his  cause  all 
on  whom  but  one  glimmering  of  light  has  burst,  all  in  whom 
one  generous  desire  can  be  kindled !  Know,  Lord  Vicar,  that 
there  is  not  a  man  in  Rome,  save  our  oppressors  themselves,  — 
not  a  man  who  has  learned  one  syllable  of  our  ancient  tongue, 
—  whose  heart  and  sword  are  not  with  me.  The  peaceful 
cultivators  of  letters,  the  proud  nobles  of  the  second  order,  the 
rising  race,  wiser  than  their  slothful  sires ;  above  all,  my  lord, 
the  humbler  ministers  of  religion,  priests  and  monks,  whom 
luxury  hath  not  blinded,  pomp  hath  not  deafened,  to  the  mon- 
strous outrage  to  Christianity  daily  and  nightly  perpetrated  in 
the  Christian  Capital,  —  these,  all  these,  are  linked  with  the 
merchant  and  the  artisan  in  one  indissoluble  bond,  waiting  but 
the  signal  to  fall  or  to  conquer,  to  live  freemen  or  to  die 
martyrs,  with  Rienzi  and  their  country ! " 

"  Sayest  thou  so  in  truth  ?  "  said  the  Bishop,  startled,  and 
half  rising.  "Prove  but  thy  words,  and  thou  shalt  not  find 
the  ministers  of  God  are  less  eager  than  their  lay  brethren  for 
the  happiness  of  men." 

""What  I  say,"  rejoined  Rienzi,  in  a  cooler  tone,  "that  can  I 
show !  But  I  may  only  prove  it  to  those  who  will  be  with  us." 

"  Fear  me  not,"  answered  Raimond,  "  I  know  well  the  secret 
mind  of  his  Holiness,  whose  delegate  and  representative  I  am ; 
and  could  he  see  but  the  legitimate  and  natural  limit  set  to  the 
power  of  the  patricians,  who  in  their  arrogance  have  set  at 
nought  the  authority  of  the  Church  itself,  be  sure  that  he 
would  smile  on  the  hand  that  drew  the  line.  Nay,  so  certain  of 
this  am  I,  that  if  ye  succeed,  I,  his  responsible  but  unworthy 
vicar,  will  myself  sanction  the  success.  But  beware  of  crude 
attempts ;  the  Church  must  not  be  weakened  by  linking  itself 
to  failure." 

"  Right,  my  lord,"  answered  Rienzi ;  "  and  in  this,  the  policy 
of  religion,  is  that  of  freedom.  Judge  of  my  prudence  by  my 
long  delay.  He  who  can  see  all  around  him  impatient  —  him- 
self not  less  so  —  and  yet  suppress  the  signal  and  bide  the 
hour,  is  not  likely  to  lose  his  cause  by  rashness." 

"More,  then,  of  this  anon,"  said  the  Bishop,  resettling  him- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  49 

self  in  his  seat.  "  As  thy  plans  mature,  fear  not  to  communi- 
cate with  me.  Believe  that  Home  has  no  firmer  friend  than  he 
who,  ordained  to  preserve  order,  finds  himself  impotent  against 
aggression.  Meanwhile,  to  the  object  of  my  present  visit, 
which  links  itself  in  some  measure,  perhaps,  with  the  topics 
on  which  we  have  conversed.  .  .  .  Thou  knowest  that  when 
his  Holiness  intrusted  thee  with  thy  present  office,  he  bade 
thee  also  announce  his  beneficent  intention  of  granting  a  gen- 
eral Jubilee  at  Rome  for  the  year  1350,  —  a  most  admirable 
design  for  two  reasons  sufficiently  apparent  to  thyself :  first, 
that  every  Christian  soul  that  may  undertake  the  pilgrimage 
to  Eome  on  that  occasion,  may  thus  obtain  a  general  remission 
of  sins ;  and  secondly,  because,  to  speak  carnally,  the  con- 
course of  pilgrims  so  assembled  usually,  by  the  donations  and 
offerings  their  piety  suggests,  very  materially  add  to  the  reve- 
nues of  the  Holy  See,  —  at  this  time,  by  the  way,  in  no  very 
flourishing  condition.  This  thou  knowest,  dear  Eienzi." 

Eienzi  bowed  his  head  in  assent,  and  the  prelate  continued : 

"Well,  it  is  with  the  greatest  grief  that  his  Holiness  per- 
ceives that  his  pious  intentions  are  likely  to  be  frustrated ;  for 
so  fierce  and  numerous  are  now  the  brigands  in  the  public 
approaches  to  Eome  that,  verily,  the  boldest  pilgrim  may 
tremble  a  little  to  undertake  the  journey,  and  those  who  do  so 
venture  will,  probably,  be  composed  of  the  poorest  of  the 
Christian  community,  men  who,  bringing  with  them  neither 
gold,  nor  silver,  nor  precious  offerings,  will  have  little  to  fear 
from  the  rapacity  of  the  brigands.  Hence  arise  two  conse- 
quences :  on  the  one  hand,  the  rich  —  who,  Heaven  knows,  and 
the  Gospel  has,  indeed,  expressly  declared,  have  the  most  need 
of  a  remission  of  sins  —  will  be  deprived  of  this  glorious 
occasion  for  absolution ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  coffers  of 
the  Church  will  be  impiously  defrauded  of  that  wealth  which 
it  would  otherwise  doubtless  obtain  from  the  zeal  of  her 
children." 

"Nothing  can  be  more  logically  manifest,  my  lord,"  said 
Eienzi. 

The  Vicar  continued:  "Now,  in  letters  received  five  days 
since  from  his  Holiness,  he  bade  me  expose  these  fearful  con- 

VOL.   I.  —  4 


50  RIENZI : 

sequences  to  Christianity  to  the  various  patricians  who  are 
legitimately  fiefs  of  the  Church,  and  command  their  resolute 
combination  against  the  marauders  of  the  road.  With  these 
have  I  conferred,  and  vainly." 

"  For  by  the  aid,  and  from  the  troops,  of  those  very  brigands, 
these  patricians  have  fortified  their  palaces  against  each  other," 
added  KienzL 

"Exactly  for  that  reason,"  rejoined  the  Bishop.  "Nay, 
Stephen  Colonna  himself  had  the  audacity  to  confess  it. 
Utterly  unmoved  by  the  loss  to  so  many  precious  souls,  and,  I 
may  add,  to  the  papal  treasury,  which  ought  to  be  little  less  dear 
to  right-discerning  men,  they  refuse  to  advance  a  step  against 
the  bandits.  Now,  then,  hearken  to  the  second  mandate  of 
his  Holiness :  — '  Failing  the  nobles,'  saith  he,  in  his  prophetic 
sagacity,  *  confer  with  Cola  di  Rienzi.  He  is  a  bold  man  and  a 
pious,  and,  thou  tellest  me,  of  great  weight  with  the  people ; 
and  say  to  him  that  if  his  wit  can  devise  the  method  for  ex- 
tirpating these  sons  of  Belial  and  rendering  a  safe  passage 
along  the  public  ways,  largely,  indeed,  will  he  merit  at  our 
hands,  lasting  will  be  the  gratitude  we  shall  owe  to  him ;  and 
whatever  succor  thou,  and  the  servants  of  our  See,  can  render 
to  him,  let  it  not  be  stinted.' " 

"  Said  his  Holiness  thus  ?  "  exclaimed  Eienzi.  "  I  ask  no 
more.  The  gratitude  is  mine  that  he  hath  thought  thus  of  his 
servant,  and  intrusted  me  with  this  charge ;  at  once  I  accept 
it,  at  once  I  pledge  myself  to  success.  Let  us,  my  lord,  let  us, 
then,  clearly  understand  the  limits  ordained  to  my  discretion. 
To  curb  the  brigands  without  the  walls,  I  must  have  authority 
over  those  within.  If  I  undertake,  at  peril  of  my  life,  to 
clear  all  the  avenues  to  Eome  of  the  robbers  who  now  infest 
it,  shall  I  have  full  license  for  conduct  bold,  peremptory,  and 
severe  ? " 

"Such  conduct  the  very  nature  of  the  charge  demands," 
replied  Raimond. 

"  Ay,  even  though  it  be  exercised  against  the  arch  offenders, 
against  the  supporters  of  the  brigands,  against  the  haughtiest 
of  the  nobles  themselves  ?  " 

The  Bishop  paused,  and  looked  hard  in  the  face  of  the 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  51 

speaker.  "  I  repeat,"  said  he  at  length,  sinking  his  voice,  and 
with  a  significant  tone,  "in  these  bold  attempts  success  is 
the  sole  sanction.  Succeed,  and  we  will  excuse  thee  all,  even 
to  the  —  " 

"  Death  of  a  Colonna  or  an  Orsini,  should  justice  demand  it, 
and  provided  it  be  according  to  the  law,  and  only  incurred  by 
the  violation  of  the  law  ?  "  added  Rienzi,  firmly. 

The  Bishop  did  not  reply  in  words,  but  a  slight  motion  of  his 
head  was  sufficient  answer  to  Eienzi. 

"My  lord,"  said  he,  "from  this  time,  then,  all  is  well.  I 
date  the  revolution,  the  restoration  of  order  of  the  state,  from 
this  hour,  this  very  conference.  Till  now,  knowing  that  jus- 
tice must  never  wink  upon  great  offenders,  I  had  hesitated, 
through  fear  lest  thou  and  his  Holiness  might  deem  it  severity, 
and  blame  him  who  replaces  the  law  because  he  smites  the 
violators  of  law.  Now  I  judge  ye  more  rightly.  Your  hand, 
my  lord." 

The  Bishop  extended  his  hand ;  Rienzi  grasped  it  firmly,  and 
then  raised  it  respectfully  to  his  lips.  Both  felt  that  the  com- 
pact was  sealed. 

This  conference,  so  long  in  recital,  was  short  in  the  reality ; 
but  its  object  was  already  finished,  and  the  Bishop  rose  to  de- 
part. The  outer  portal  of  the  house  was  opened,  the  numerous 
servitors  of  the  Bishop  held  on  high  their  torches,  and  he  had 
just  turned  from  Rienzi,  who  had  attended  him  to  the  gate, 
when  a  female  passed  hastily  through  the  Prelate's  train,  and 
starting  as  she  beheld  Kienzi,  flung  herself  at  his  feet. 

"  Oh,  hasten,  sir,  hasten ;  for  the  love  of  God,  hasten,  or  the 
young  Signora  is  lost  forever ! " 

"  The  Signora !  Heaven  and  earth,  Benedetta,  of  whom  do 
you  speak  ?  Of  my  sister,  of  Irene  ?  Is  she  not  within  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir,  the  Orsini,  the  Orsini ! " 

"  What  of  them  ?     Speak,  woman  ! " 

Here,  breathlessly,  and  with  many  a  break,  Benedetta  re- 
counted to  Rienzi,  in  whom  the  reader  has  already  recognized 
the  brother  of  Irene,  so  far  of  the  adventure  with  Martino  di 
Porto  as  she  had  witnessed ;  of  the  termination  and  result  of 
the  contest  she  knew  nought 


52  RIENZI : 

Eienzi  listened  in  silence ;  but  the  deadly  paleness  of  his 
countenance  and  the  writhing  of  the  nether  lip  testified  the 
emotions  to  which  he  gave  no  audible  vent. 

"  You  hear,  my  Lord  Bishop,  you  hear,"  said  he,  when  Bene- 
detta  had  concluded ;  and  turning  to  the  Bishop,  whose  depar- 
ture the  narrative  had  delayed,  "you  hear  to  what  outrage  the 
citizens  of  Rome  are  subjected.  My  hat  and  sword  instantly ! 
My  lord,  forgive  my  abruptness." 

"  Whither  art  thou  bent,  then  ?  "  asked  Raimond. 

"  Whither,  whither  ?  Ay,  I  forgot,  my  lord,  you  have  no 
sister.  Perhaps,  too,  you  had  no  brother  ?  No,  no  ;  one  victim 
at  least  I  will  live  to  save.  Whither,  you  ask  me  ?  To  the 
palace  of  Martino  di  Porto." 

"To  an  Orsini  alone,  and  for  justice  ?" 

"  Alone,  and  for  justice  ?  No  ! "  shouted  Rienzi,  in  a  loud 
voice,  as  he  seized  his  sword,  now  brought  to  him  by  one  of  his 
servants,  and  rushed  from  the  house ;  "  but  one  man  is  sufficient 
for  revenge  !  " 

The  Bishop  paused  for  a  moment's  deliberation.  "  He  must 
not  be  lost,"  muttered  he,  "  as  he  well  may  be,  if  exposed  thus 
solitary  to  the  wolf's  rage.  What,  ho ! "  he  cried  aloud,  "  ad- 
vance the  torches !  Quick,  quick  !  We  ourself,  we,  the  Vicar 
of  the  Pope,  will  see  to  this.  Calm  yourselves,  good  people ; 
your  young  Signora  shall  be  restored.  On,  to  the  palace  of 
Martino  di  Porto ! " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IRENE    IN   THE   PALACE   OF  ADRIAN    DI   CASTELLO. 

As  the  Cyprian  gazed  on  the  image  in  which  he  had  embodied 
a  youth  of  dreams,  what  time  the  living  hues  flushed  slowly 
beneath  the  marble,  so  gazed  the  young  and  passionate  Adrian 
upon  the  form  reclined  before  him,  re-awakening  gradually  to 
life.  And  if  the  beauty  of  that  face  were  not  of  the  loftiest  or 
the  most  dazzling  order,  if  its  soft  and  quiet  character  might 
be  outshone  by  many  of  loveliness  less  really  perfect,  yet 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  53 

never  was  there  a  countenance  that,  to  some  eyes,  would  have 
seemed  more  charming,  and  never  one  in  which  more  eloquently 
was  wrought  that  ineffable  and  virgin  expression  which  Italian 
art  seeks  for  in  its  models,  in  which  modesty  is  the  outward, 
and  tenderness  the  latent,  expression,  —  the  bloom  of  youth, 
both  of  form  and  heart,  ere  the  first  frail  and  delicate  freshness 
of  either  is  brushed  away ;  and  when  even  love  itself,  the  only 
unquiet  visitant  that  should  be  known  at  such  an  age,  is  but 
a  sentiment,  and  not  a  passion ! 

"  Benedetta ! "  murmured  Irene,  at  length  opening  her  eyes, 
unconsciously,  upon  him  who  knelt  beside  her,  —  eyes  of  that 
uncertain,  that  most  liquid  hue,  on  which  you  might  gaze  for 
years  and  never  learn  the  secret  of  the  color,  so  changed  it 
with  the  dilating  pupil,  darkening  in  the  shade,  and  brighten- 
ing into  azure  in  the  light. 

"  Benedetta,"  said  Irene,  "  where  art  thou  ?  Oh,  Benedetta ! 
I  have  had  such  a  dream." 

"  And  7,  too,  such  a  vision ! "  thought  Adrian. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  cried  Irene,  rising  from  the  couch.  ^  This 
room,  these  hangings  —  Holy  Virgin !  do  I  dream  still  ? 
And  you !  Heavens  !  —  it  is  the  Lord  Adrian  di  Castello ! " 

"  Is  that  a  name  thou  hast  been  taught  to  fear  ? "  said 
Adrian.  "If  so,  I  will  forswear  it." 

If  Irene  now  blushed  deeply,  it  was  not  in  that  wild  delight 
with  which  her  romantic  heart  might  have  foretold  that  she 
would  listen  to  the  first  words  of  homage  from  Adrian  di 
Castello.  Bewildered  and  confused,  terrified  at  the  strange- 
ness of  the  place,  and  shrinking  even  from  the  thought  of  find- 
ing herself  alone  with  one  who  for  years  had  been  present  to 
her  fancies,  —  alarm  and  distress  were  the  emotions  she  felt 
the  most,  and  which  most  were  impressed  upon  her  speaking 
countenance ;  and  as  Adrian  now  drew  nearer  to  her,  despite 
the  gentleness  of  his  voice  and  the  respect  of  his  looks,  her 
fears,  not  the  less  strong  that  they  were  vague,  increased  upon 
her.  She  retreated  to  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  looked 
wildly  round  her,  and  then,  covering  her  face  with  her  hands, 
burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  tears. 

Moved  himself  by  these  tears,  and  divining  her  thoughts, 


64  RIENZI : 

Adrian  forgot  for  a  moment  all  the  more  daring  wishes  he  had 
formed. 

"  Fear  not,  sweet  lady,"  said  he,  earnestly.  "  Recollect  thy- 
self, I  beseech  thee ;  no  peril,  no  evil  can  reach  thee  here.  It 
was  this  hand  that  saved  thee  from  the  outrage  of  the  Orsini ; 
this  roof  is  but  the  shelter  of  a  friend !  Tell  me,  then,  fair 
wonder,  thy  name  and  residence,  and  I  will  summon  my  servi- 
tors and  guard  thee  to  thy  home  at  once." 

Perhaps  the  relief  of  tears,  even  more  than  Adrian's  words, 
restored  Irene  to  herself  and  enabled  her  to  comprehend  her 
novel  situation ;  and  as  her  senses,  thus  cleared,  told  her  what 
she  owed  to  him  whom  her  dreams  had  so  long  imaged  as  the 
ideal  of  all  excellence,  she  recovered  her  self-possession,  and 
uttered  her  thanks  with  a  grace  not  the  less  winning,  if  it  still 
partook  of  embarrassment. 

"  Thank  me  not,"  answered  Adrian,  passionately.  "  I  have 
touched  thy  hand, — I  am  repaid.  Repaid!  nay,  all  gratitude, 
all  homage  is  for  me  to  render !  " 

Blushing  again,  but  with  far  different  emotions  than  before, 
Irene,  after  a  momentary  pause,  replied,  "  Yet,  my  lord,  I  must 
consider  it  a  debt  the  more  weighty  that  you  speak  of  it  so 
lightly.  And  now  complete  the  obligation.  I  do  not  see  my 
companion,  —  suffer  her  to  accompany  me  home ;  it  is  but  a 
short  way  hence." 

"  Blessed,  then,  is  the  air  that  I  have  breathed  so  uncon- 
sciously ! "  said  Adrian.  "  But  thy  companion,  dear  lady,  is 
not  here.  She  fled,  I  imagine,  in  the  confusion  of  the  conflict ; 
and  not  knowing  thy  name,  nor  being  able,  in  thy  then  state, 
to  learn  it  from  thy  lips,  it  was  my  happy  necessity  to  con- 
vey thee  hither.  But  I  will  be  thy  companion.  Nay,  why 
that  timid  glance  ?  My  people  also  shall  attend  us." 

"My  thanks,  noble  lord,  are  of  little  worth;  my  brother, 
who  is  not  unknown  to  thee,  will  thank  thee  more  fittingly.  May 
I  depart  ?  "  and  Irene,  as  she  spoke,  was  already  at  the  door. 

"  Art  thou  so  eager  to  leave  me  ?  "  answered  Adrian,  sadly. 
"  Alas !  when  thou  hast  departed  from  my  eyes,  it  will  seem  as 
if  the  moon  had  left  the  night!  But  it  is  happiness  to 
obey  thy  wishes,  even  though  they  tear  thee  from  me." 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  55 

A  slight  smile  parted  Irene's  lips,  and  Adrian's  heart  beat 
audibly  to  himself  as  he  drew  from  that  smile  and  those  down- 
cast eyes  no  unfavorable  omen. 

Reluctantly  and  slowly  he  turned  towards  the  door  and  sum- 
moned his  attendants.  "  But,"  said  he,  as  they  stood  on  the 
lofty  staircase,  "thou  sayest,  sweet  lady,  that  thy  brother's 
name  is  not  unknown  to  me.  Heaven  grant  that  he  be,  indeed, 
a  friend  of  the  Colonna ! " 

"  His  boast,"  answered  Irene,  evasively,  "  the  boast  of  Cola 
di  Rienzi,  is  to  be  a  friend  to  the  friends  of  Rome." 

"  Holy  Virgin  of  Ara  Coeli !  is  thy  brother  that  extraordinary 
man  ?  "  exclaimed  Adrian,  as  he  foresaw,  at  the  mention  of 
that  name,  a  barrier  to  his  sudden  passion.  "  Alas !  in  a 
Colonna,  in  a  noble,  he  will  see  no  merit,  even  though  thy 
fortunate  deliverer,  sweet  maiden,  sought  to  be  his  early 
friend ! " 

"Thou  wrongest  him  much,  my  lord,"  returned  Irene, 
warmly ;  "  he  is  a  man  above  all  others  to  sympathize  with  thy 
generous  valor,  even  had  it  been  exerted  in  defence  of  the 
humblest  woman  in  Home :  how  much  more,  then,  when  in 
protection  of  his  sister ! " 

"  The  times  are  indeed  diseased,"  answered  Adrian,  thought- 
fully, as  they  now  found  themselves  in  the  open  street,  "  when 
men  who  alike  mourn  for  the  woes  of  their  country  are  yet 
suspicious  of  each  othei ;  when  to  be  a  patrician  is  to  be  re- 
garded as  an  enemy  to  the  people ;  when  to  be  termed  the 
friend  of  the  people  is  to  be  considered  a  foe  to  the  patricians ! 
But  come  what  may,  oh!  let  me  hope,  dear  lady,  that  no 
doubts,  no  divisions,  shall  banish  from  thy  breast  one  gentle 
memory  of  me  !  " 

"  Ah !  little,  little  do  you  know  me  —  "  began  Irene,  and 
stopped  suddenly  short. 

"Speak!  speak  again!  Of  what  music  has  this  envious 
silence  deprived  my  soul !  Thou  wilt  not,  then,  forget  me  ? 
And,"  continued  Adrian,  "  we  shall  meet  again  ?  It  is  to 
Rienzi's  house  we  are  bound  now ;  to-morrow  I  shall  visit  my 
old  companion, — to-morrow  I  shall  see  thee.  Will  it  not 
be  so  ?  " 


56  RIENZI : 

In  Irene's  silence  was  her  answer. 

"  And  as  thou  hast  told  me  thy  brother's  name,  make  it 
sweet  to  my  ear,  and  add  to  it  thine  own." 

"  They  call  me  Irene." 

"  Irene,  Irene !  Let  me  repeat  it.  It  is  a  soft  name,  and 
dwells  upon  the  lips  as  if  loth  to  leave  them,  —  a  fitting  name 
for  one  like  thee." 

Thus  making  his  welcome  court  to  Irene  in  that  flowered 
and  glowing  language  which,  if  more  peculiar  to  that  age  and 
to  the  gallantry  of  the  South,  is  also  the  language  in  whiclx 
the  poetry  of  youthful  passion  would,  in  all  times  and  lands, 
utter  its  rich  extravagance,  could  heart  speak  to  heart,  Adrian 
conveyed  homeward  his  beautiful  charge,  taking,  however,  the 
most  circuitous  and  lengthened  route,  —  an  artifice  which  Irene 
either  perceived  not,  or  silently  forgave.  They  were  now 
within  sight  of  the  street  in  which  Rienzi  dwelt,  when  a  party 
of  men,  bearing  torches,  came  unexpectedly  upon  them.  It 
was  a  train  of  the  Bishop  of  Orvietto,  returning  from  the  pal- 
ace of  Martino  di  Porto,  and  in  their  way  (accompanied  by 
Rienzi)  to  that  of  Adrian.  They  had  learned  at  the  former, 
without  an  interview  with  the  Orsini,  from  the  retainers  in 
the  court  below,  the  fortune  of  the  conflict  and  the  name  of 
Irene's  champion ;  and  despite  Adrian's  general  reputation  for 
gallantry,  Rienzi  knew  enough  of  his  character  and  the  noble- 
ness of  his  temper  to  feel  assured  that  Irene  was  safe  in 
his  protection.  Alas  !  in  that  very  safety  to  the  person  is 
often  the  most  danger  to  the  heart.  Woman  never  so  danger- 
ously loves  as  when  he  who  loves  her,  for  her  sake  subdues 
himself. 

Clasped  to  her  brother's  breast,  Irene  bade  him  thank  her 
deliverer;  and  Rienzi,  with  that  fascinating  frankness  which 
sits  so  well  on  those  usually  reserved,  and  which  all  who  would 
rule  the  hearts  of  their  fellow-men  must  at  times  command, 
advanced  to  the  young  Colonna  and  poured  forth  his  gratitude 
and  praise. 

"  We  have  been  severed  too  long ;  we  must  know  each  other 
again,"  replied  Adrian.  "I  shall  seek  thee  ere  long,  be 
assured." 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUXES.  57 

Turning  to  take  his  leave  of  Irene,  he  conveyed  her  hand  to 
his  lips  ;  and  pressing  it,  as  it  dropped  from  his  clasp,  was  he 
deceived  in  thinking  that  those  delicate  fingers  lightly,  invol- 
untarily, returned  the  pressure  ? 


CHAPTER  VII. 

UPON   LOVE   AND    LOVERS. 

IF  in  adopting  the  legendary  love-tele  of  Romeo  and  Juliet, 
Shakspeare  had  changed  the  scene  in  which  it  is  cast  for  a 
more  northern  cliine,  we  may  doubt  whether  the  art  of  Shaks- 
peare himself  could  have  reconciled  us  at  once  to  the  sudden- 
ness and  the  strength  of  Juliet's  passion.  And  even  as  it  is, 
perhaps  there  are  few  of  our  rational  and  sober-minded  island- 
ers who  would  not  honestly  confess,  if  fairly  questioned,  that 
they  deem  the  romance  and  fervor  of  those  ill-starred  lovers 
of  Verona  exaggerated  and  overdrawn.  Yet  in  Italy  the  pict- 
ure of  that  affection  born  of  a  night,  but  "  strong  as  death," 
is  one  to  which  the  veriest  commonplaces  of  life  would  afford 
parallels  without  number.  As  in  different  ages,  so  in  different 
climes,  love  varies  wonderfully  in  the  shapes  it  takes.  And 
even  at  this  day,  beneath  Italian  skies,  many  a  simple  girl 
would  feel  as  Juliet,  and  many  a  homely  gallant  would  rival 
the  extravagance  of  Romeo.  Long  suits  in  that  sunny  land, 
wherein,  as  whereof,  I  now  write,  are  unknown.  In  no  other 
land,  perhaps,  is  there  found  so  commonly  the  love  at  first 
sight  which  in  France  is  a  jest,  and  in  England  a  doubt;  in 
no  other  land,  too,  is  love,  though  so  suddenly  conceived,  more 
faithfully  preserved.  That  which  is  ripened  in  fancy  comes  at 
once  to  passion,  yet  is  embalmed  through  all  time  by  senti- 
ment. And  this  must  be  my  and  their  excuse  if  the  love  of 
Adrian  seemed  too  prematurely  formed,  and  that  of  Irene  too 
romantically  conceived  ;  it  is  the  excuse  which  they  take  from 
the  air  and  sun,  from  the  customs  of  their  ancestors,  from  the 


58  RIENZI : 

soft  contagion  of  example.  But  while  they  yielded  to  the  dic- 
tates of  their  hearts,  it  was  with  a  certain  though  secret  sad- 
ness, —  a  presentiment  that  had,  perhaps,  its  charm,  though  it 
was  of  cross  and  evil.  Born  of  so  proud  a  race,  Adrian  could 
scarcely  dream  of  marriage  with  the  sister  of  a  plebeian ;  and 
Irene,  unconscious  of  the  future  glory  of  her  brother,  could 
hardly  have  cherished  any  hope  save  that  of  being  loved.  Yet 
these  adverse  circumstances,  which  in  the  harder,  the  more 
prudent,  the  more  self-denying,  perhaps  the  more  virtuous 
minds  that  are  formed  beneath  the  northern  skies,  would  have 
been  an  inducement  to  wrestle  against  love  so  placed,  only 
contributed  to  feed  and  strengthen  theirs  by  an  opposition 
which  has  ever  its  attraction  for  romance.  They  found  fre- 
quent, though  short,  opportunities  of  meeting,  —  not  quite 
alone,  but  only  in  the  conniving  presence  of  Benedetta :  some- 
times in  the  public  gardens,  sometimes  amidst  the  vast  and 
deserted  ruins  by  which  the  house  of  Eienzi  was  surrounded. 
They  surrendered  themselves,  without  much  question  of  the 
future,  to  the  excitement,  the  elysium,  of  the  hour ;  they  lived 
but  from  day  to  day  ;  their  future  was  the  next  time  they  should 
meet :  beyond  that  epoch,  the  very  mists  of  their  youthful  love 
closed  in  obscurity  and  shadow  which  they  sought  not  to  pene- 
trate ;  and  as  yet  they  had  not  arrived  at  that  period  of  affec- 
tion when  there  was  danger  of  their  fall,  —  their  love  had  not 
passed  the  golden  portal  where  Heaven  ceases  and  Earth  begins. 
Everything  for  them  was  the  poetry,  the  vagueness,  the  refine- 
ment, —  not  the  power,  the  concentration,  the  mortality,  —  of 
desire  !  The  look,  the  whisper,  the  brief  pressure  of  the  hand, 
at  most,  the  first  kisses  of  love,  rare  and  few,  —  these  marked 
the  human  limits  of  that  sentiment  which  filled  them  with  a 
new  life,  which  elevated  them  as  with  a  new  soul. 

The  roving  tendencies  of  Adrian  were  at  once  fixed  and 
centred ;  the  dreams  of  his  tender  mistress  had  awakened  to  a 
life  dreaming  still,  but  "rounded  with  a  truth."  All  that 
earnestness  and  energy  and  fervor  of  emotion  which  in  her 
brother  broke  forth  in  the  schemes  of  patriotism  and  the  as- 
pirations of  power,  were  in  Irene  softened  down  into  one 
object  of  existence,  one  concentration  of  soul, — and  that  was 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  59 

love.  Yet  in  this  range  of  thought  and  action,  so  apparently 
limited,  there  was  in  reality  no  less  boundless  a  sphere  than  in 
the  wide  space  of  her  brother's  many-pathed  ambition.  Not 
the  less  had  she  the  power  and  scope  for  all  the  loftiest  capaci- 
ties granted  to  our  clay.  Equal  was  her  enthusiasm  for  her 
idol ;  equal,  had  she  been  equally  tried,  would  have  been  her 
generosity,  her  devotion,  —  greater,  be  sure,  her  courage  ;  more 
inalienable  her  worship ;  more  unsullied  by  selfish  purposes 
and  sordid  views.  Time,  change,  misfortune,  ingratitude,  would 
have  left  her  the  same.  What  state  could  fall,  what  liberty 
decay,  if  the  zeal  of  man's  noisy  patriotism  were  as  pure  as 
the  silent  loyalty  of  a  woman's  love  ? 

In  them  everything  was  yovng,  the  heart  unchilled,  un- 
blighted,  that  fulness  and  luxuriance  of  life's  life  which  has  in 
it  something  of  divine.  At  that  age,  when  it  seems  as  if  we 
could  never  die,  how  deathless,  how  flushed  and  mighty  as 
with  the  youngness  of  a  god,  is  all  that  our  hearts  create ! 
Our  own  youth  is  like  that  of  the  earth  itself  when  it  peopled 
the  woods  and  waters  with  divinities  ;  when  life  ran  riot,  and 
yet  only  gave  birth  to  beauty,  —  all  its  shapes,  of  poetry ;  all 
its  airs,  the  melodies  of  Arcady  and  Olympus !  The  Golden 
Age  never  leaves  the  world ;  it  exists  still  and  shall  exist,  till 
love,  health,  poetry,  are  no  more,  —  but  only  for  the  young ! 

If  I  now  dwell,  though  but  for  a  moment,  on  the  interlude 
in  a  drama  calling  forth  more  masculine  passions  than  that  of 
love,  it  is  because  I  foresee  that  the  occasion  will  but  rarely 
recur.  If  I  linger  on  the  description  of  Irene  and  her  hidden 
affection,  rather  than  wait  for  circumstances  to  portray  them 
better  than  the  author's  words  can,  it  is  because  I  foresee  that 
that  loving  and  lovely  image  must  continue  to  the  last  rather  a 
shadow  than  a  portrait,  —  thrown  in  the  background,  as  is  the 
real  destiny  of  such  natures,  by  bolder  figures  and  more  gor- 
geous colors ;  a  something  whose  presence  is  rather  felt  than 
seen,  and  whose  very  harmony  with  the  whole  consists  in  its 
retiring  and  subdued  repose. 


60  RIENZI : 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE    ENTHUSIASTIC    MAN   JUDGED    BY    THE   DISCREET    MAN. 

"Tnou  wrongest  me,"  said  Rienzi,  warmly,  to  Adrian,  as 
they  sat  alone,  towards  the  close  of  a  long  conference.  "  I  do 
not  play  the  part  of  a  mere  demagogue  ;  I  wish  not  to  stir  the 
great  deeps  in  order  that  my  lees  of  fortune  may  rise  to  the 
surface.  So  long  have  I  brooded  over  the  past  that  it  seems  to 
me  as  if  I  had  become  a  part  of  it,  as  if  I  had  no  separate 
existence.  I  have  coined  my  whole  soul  into  one  master- 
passion;  and  its  end  is  the  restoration  of  Rome." 

"  But  by  what  means  ?  " 

"  My  lord !  my  lord !  there  is  but  one  way  to  restore  the 
greatness  of  a  people,  —  it  is  an  appeal  to  the  people  them- 
selves. It  is  not  in  the  power  of  princes  and  barons  to  make 
a  state  permanently  glorious ;  they  raise  themselves,  but  they 
raise  not  the  people  with  them.  All  great  regenerations  are 
the  universal  movement  of  the  mass." 

"  Nay,"  answered  Adrian,  "  then  have  we  read  history  dif- 
ferently. To  me,  all  great  regenerations  seem  to  have  been 
the  work  of  the  few,  and  tacitly  accepted  by  the  multitude. 
But  let  us  not  dispute  after  the  manner  of  the  schools.  Thou 
sayest  loudly  that  a  vast  crisis  is  at  hand,  that  the  Good  Es- 
tate (buono  stato)  shall  be  established.  How  ?  where  are  your 
arms,  your  soldiers?  Are  the  nobles  less  strong  than  hereto- 
fore ;  is  the  .mob  more  bold,  more  constant  ?  Heaven  knows 
that  I  speak  not  with  the  prejudices  of  my  order ;  I  weep  for 
the  debasement  of  my  country !  I  am  a  Roman,  and  in  that 
name  I  forget  that  I  am  a  noble.  But  I  tremble  at  the  storm 
you  would  raise  so  hazardously.  If  your  insurrection  succeed, 
it  will  be  violent ;  it  will  be  purchased  by  blood,  —  by  the 
blood  of  all  the  loftiest  names  of  Home.  You  will  aim  at  a 
second  expulsion  of  the  Tarquins ;  but  it  will  be  more  like  a 
second  proscription  of  Sylla.  Massacres  and  disorders  never 


'   A 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  61 

pave  the  way  to  peace.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  fail,  the 
chains  of  Borne  are  riveted  forever ;  an  ineffectual  struggle  to 
escape  is  but  an  excuse  for  additional  tortures  to  the  slave." 

"And  what,  then,  would  the  Lord  Adrian  have  us  do?" 
said  Eienzi,  with  that  peculiar  and  sarcastic  smile  which  has 
before  been  noted.  "  Shall  we  wait  till  the  Colonna  and  Orsini 
quarrel  no  more  ?  Shall  we  ask  the  Colonna  for  liberty,  and 
the  Orsini  for  justice  ?  My  lord,  we  cannot  appeal  to  the 
nobles  against  the  nobles.  We  must  not  ask  them  to  moderate 
their  power,  we  must  restore  to  ourselves  that  power.  There 
may  be  danger  in  the  attempt,  but  we  attempt  it  amongst  the 
monuments  of  the  Forum ;  and  if  we  fall,  we  shall  perish 
worthy  of  our  sires!  Ye  have  high  descent  and  sounding 
titles  and  wide  lands,  and  you  talk  of  your  ancestral  honors ! 
We,  too,  we  plebeians  of  Eome,  we  have  ours!  Our  fathers 
were  freemen !  Where  is  our  heritage  ?  Not  sold,  not  given 
away,  but  stolen  from  us,  now  by  fraud,  now  by  force ;  filched 
from  us  in  our  sleep,  or  wrung  from  us  with  fierce  hands, 
amidst  our  cries  and  struggles.  My  lord,  we  but  ask  that 
lawful  heritage  to  be  restored  to  us,  —  to  us,  nay,  to  you  it  is 
the  same ;  your  liberty  alike  is  gone.  Can  you  dwell  in  your 
father's  house  without  towers  and  fortresses  and  the  bought 
swords  of  bravos  ?  Can  you  walk  in  the  streets  at  dark  with- 
out arms  and  followers  ?  True,  you,  a  noble,  may  retaliate ; 
though  we  dare  not.  You,  in  your  turn,  may  terrify  and  out- 
rage others ;  but  does  license  compensate  for  liberty  ?  They 
have  given  you  pomp  and  power ;  but  the  safety  of  equal  laws 
were  a  better  gift.  Oh,  were  I  you,  were  I  Stephen  Colonna 
himself,  I  should  pant,  ay,  thirstily  as  I  do  now,  for  that  free 
air  which  comes  not  through  bars  and  bulwarks  against  my 
fellow-citizens,  but  in  the  open  space  of  Heaven,  —  safe,  be- 
cause protected  by  the  silent  Providence  of  Law,  and  not  by 
the  lean  fears  and  hollow-eyed  suspicions  which  are  the  com- 
rades of  a  hated  power.  The  tyrant  thinks  he  is  free  because 
he  commands  slaves:  the  meanest  peasant  in  a  free  state  is 
more  free  than  he  is.  Oh,  my  lord,  that  you,  the  brave,  the 
generous,  the  enlightened,  you,  almost  alone  amidst  your  order, 
in  the  knowledge  that  we  had  a  country,  —  oh,  would  that  you, 


62  RIENZI : 

\vho  can  sympathize  with  our  sufferings,  would  strike  with  us 
for  their  redress ! " 

"  Thou  wilt  war  against  Stephen  Colonna,  my  kinsman ;  and 
though  I  have  seen  him  but  little,  nor,  truth  to  say,  esteem 
him  much,  yet  he  is  the  boast  of  our  house :  how  can  I  join 
thee?" 

"His  life  will  be  safe,  his  possessions  safe,  his  rank  safe. 
What  do  we  war  against?  His  power  to  do  wrong  to 
others ! " 

"  Should  he  discover  that  thou  hast  force  beyond  words,  he 
would  be  less  merciful  to  thee." 

"And  has  he  not  discovered  that?  Do  not  the  shouts  of 
the  people  tell  him  that  I  am  a  man  whom  he  should  fear  ? 
Does  he,  the  cautious,  the  wily,  the  profound,  does  he  build 
fortresses  and  erect  towers,  and  not  see  from  his  battlements 
the  mighty  fabric  that  I  too  have  erected?" 

"  You !  where,  Rienzi  ?  " 

"  In  the  hearts  of  Rome !  Does  he  not  see  ? "  continued 
Rienzi.  "No,  no;  he  —  all,  all  his  tribe  are  blind.  Is  it 
not  so?" 

. "  Of  a  certainty,  my  kinsman  has  no  belief  in  your  power, 
else  he  would  have  crushed  you  long  ere  this.  Nay,  it  was 
but  three  days  ago  that  he  said,  gravely,  he  would  rather  you 
addressed  the  populace  than  the  best  priest  in  Christendom ; 
for  that  other  orators  inflamed  the  crowd,  and  no  man  so 
stilled  and  dispersed  them  as  you  did." 

"  And  I  called  him  profound !  Does  not  Heaven  hush  the 
air  most  when  most  it  prepares  the  storm  ?  Ay,  my  lord,  I 
understand.  Stephen  Colonna  despises  me.  I  have  been," 
here,  as  he  continued,  a  deep  blush  mantled  over  his  cheek  — 
"you  remember  it  —  at  his  palace  in  my  younger  days,  and 
pleased  him  with  witty  tales  and  light  apophthegms.  Nay  — 
ha !  ha !  —  he  would  call  me,  I  think,  sometimes,  in  gay  com- 
pliment, his  jester,  his  buffoon!  I  have  brooked  his  insult; 
I  have  even  bowed  to  his  applause.  I  would  undergo  the 
same  penance,  stoop  to  the  same  shame,  for  the  same  motive 
and  in  the  same  cause.  "What  did  I  desire  to  effect?  Can 
you  tell  me  ?  No !  I  will  whisper  it,  then,  to  you :  it  was  — 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  63 

the  contempt  of  Stephen  Colonna.  Under  that  contempt  I  was 
protected  till  protection  became  no  longer  necessary.  I  de- 
sired not  to  be  thought  formidable  by  the  patricians,  in  order 
that,  quietly  and  unsuspected,  I  might  make  my  way  amongst 
the  people.  I  have  done  so;  I  now  throw  aside  the  mask. 
Face  to  face  with  Stephen  Colonna,  I  could  tell  him,  this  very 
hour,  that  I  brave  his  anger ;  that  I  laugh  at  his  dungeons  and 
armed  men.  But  if  he  think  me  the  same  Eienzi  as  of  old, 
let  him ;  I  can  wait  my  hour." 

"Yet,"  said  Adrian,  waiving  an  answer  to  the  haughty 
language  of  his  companion,  "tell  me,  what  dost  thou  ask  for 
the  people,  in  order  to  avoid  an  appeal  to  their  passions  ? 
Ignorant  and  capricious  as  they  are,  thou  canst  not  appeal 
to  their  reason." 

"  I  ask  full  justice  and  safety  for  all  men.  I  will  be  con- 
tented with  no  less  a  compromise.  I  ask  the  nobles  to  dis- 
mantle their  fortresses,  to  disband  their  armed  retainers,  to 
acknowledge  no  impunity  for  crime  in  high  lineage,  to  claim 
no  protection  save  in  the  courts  of  the  common  law." 

"  Vain  desire ! "  said  Adrian.  "  Ask  what  may  yet  be 
granted." 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  replied  Eienzi,  laughing  bitterly,  "  did  I  not  tell 
you  it  was  a  vain  dream  to  ask  for  law  and  justice  at  the  hands 
of  the  great?  Can  you  blame  me,  then,  that  I  ask  it  else- 
where ?  "  Then,  suddenly  changing  his  tone  and  manner,  he 
added  with  great  solemnity  —  "  Waking  life  hath  false  and 
vain  dreams ;  but  sleep  is  sometimes  a  mighty  prophet.  By 
sleep  it  is  that  Heaven  mysteriously,  communes  with  its  crea- 
tures, and  guides  and  sustains  its  earthly  agents  in  the  path 
to  which  its  providence  leads  them  on." 

Adrian  made  no  reply.  This  was  not  the  first  time  he  had 
noted  that  Kienzi's  strong  intellect  was  strangely  conjoined  with 
a  deep  and  mystical  superstition.  And  this  yet  more  inclined 
the  young  noble,  who,  though  sufficiently  devout,  yielded  but 
little  to  the  wilder  credulities  of  the  time,  to  doubt  the  success 
of  the  schemer's  projects.  In  this  he  erred  greatly,  though  his 
error  was  that  of  the  worldly  wise.  For  nothing  ever  so  in- 
spires human  daring  as  the  fond  belief  that  it  is  the  agent  of  a 


i',4  RIENZI: 


Hiviner  Wisdom.  Revenge  and  patriotism,  united  in  one  man 
of  genius  and  ambition,  —  such  are  the  Archimedean  levers 
that  lind.  in  FANATICISM,  the  spot  out  of  the  world  by  which 
to  move  the  world.  The  prudent  man  may  direct  a  state,  but 
it  is  the  enthusiast  who  regenerates  it  —  or  ruins. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"WHEN  THE  PEOPLE  SAW  THIS  PICTURE,  EVERY  ONE 
MARVELLED." 

BEFORE  the  market-place  and  at  the  foot  of  the  Capitol, 
an  immense  crowd  was  assembled.  Each  man  sought  to  push 
before  his  neighbor;  each  struggled  to  gain  access  to  one 
particular  spot,  round  which  the  crowd  was  wedged  thick 
and  dense. 

"  Corpo  di  Dio ! "  said  a  man  of  huge  stature,  pressing  on- 
ward like  some  bulky  ship,  casting  the  noisy  waves  right  and 
left  from  its  prow,  "this  is  hot  work;  but  for  what,  in  the 
Holy  Mother's  name,  do  ye  crowd  so  ?  See  you  not,  Sir  Ribald, 
that  my  right  arm  is  disabled,  swathed,  and  bandaged,  so  that 
I  cannot  help  myself  better  than  a  baby  ?  And  yet  you  push 
against  me  as  if  I  were  an  old  wall ! " 

"  Ah,  Cecco  del  Vecchio !  What,  man !  we  must  make  way 
for  you ;  you  are  too  small  and  tender  to  bustle  through 
a  crowd !  Come,  I  will  protect  you ! "  said  a  dwarf  of  some 
four  feet  high,  glancing  up  at  the  giant. 

"  Faith,"  said  the  grim  smith,  looking  round  on  the  mob, 
who  laughed  loud  at  the  dwarf's  proffer,  "  we  all  do  want  pro- 
tection, big  and  small.  What  do  you  laugh  for,  ye  apes  ?  Ay, 
you  don't  understand  parables." 

"  And  yet  it  is  a  parable  we  are  come  to  gaze  upon,"  said 
one  of  the  mob,  with  a  slight  sneer. 

"  Pleasant  day  to  you,  Signor  Baroncelli,"  answered  Cecco 
del  Vecchio;  "you  are  a  good  man,  and  love  the  people:  it 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  65 

makes  one's  heart  sinile  to  see  you.     What 's  all  this  pother 
for  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  Pope's  notary  hath  set  up  a  great  picture  in  the 
market-place,  and  the  gapers  say  it  relates  to  Koine ;  so  they 
are  melting  their  brains  out,  this  hot  day,  to  guess  at  the 
riddle." 

"  Ho  !  ho !  "  said  the  smith,  pushing  on  so  vigorously  that 
he  left  the  speaker  suddenly  in  the  rear ;  "  if  Cola  di  Kienzi 
hath  aught  in  the  matter,  I  would  break  through  stone  rocks 
to  get  to  it." 

"  Much  good  will  a  dead  daub  do  us,"  said  Baroncelli,  sourly, 
and  turning  to  his  neighbors ;  but  no  man  listened  to  him,  and 
he,  a  would-be  demagogue,  gnawed  his  lip  in  envy. 

Amidst  half-awed  groans  and  curses  from  the  men  whom  he 
jostled  aside,  and  open  objurgations  and  shrill  cries  from  the 
women,  to  whose  robes  and  head-gear  he  showed  as  little 
respect,  the  sturdy  smith  won  his  way  to  a  space  fenced  round 
by  chains,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  placed  a  huge  picture. 

"  How  came  it  hither  ? "  cried  one ;  "  I  was  first  at  the 
market." 

""We  found  it  here  at  daybreak,"  said  a  vender  of  fruit; 
"no  one  was  by." 

"  But  why  do  you  fancy  Rienzi  had  a  hand  in  it  ?  " 
"  Why,  who  else  could  ?  "  answered  twenty  voices. 
"  True  !  Who  else  ?  "  echoed  the  gaunt  smith.     "  I  dare  be 
sworn  the  good  man  spent  the  whole  night  in  painting  it  him- 
self.    Blood  of  Saint  Peter,  but  it  is  mighty  fine  !     What  is 
it  about?" 

"That's  the  riddle,"  said  a  meditative  fishwoman;  "if 
I  could  make  it  out,  I  should  die  happy." 

"It  is  something  about  liberty  and  taxes,  no  doubt,"  said 
Luigi  the  butcher,  leaning  over  the  chains.  "  Ah  !  if  Rienzi 
were  minded,  every  poor  man  would  have  his  bit  of  meat  in 
his  pot." 

"  And  as  much  bread  as  he  could  eat,"  added  a  pale  baker. 
"Chut!   bread  and  meat,  —  everybody  has  that  now;  but 
what  wine  the  poor  folks  drink !     One  has  no  encouragement 
to  take  pains  with  one's  vineyard,"  said  a  vinedresser. 

VOL.    I.  —  5 


66  RIENZI : 

"  Ho,  hollo  1  Long  life  to  Pandulfo  di  Guido !  Make  way 
for  master  Pandulfo ;  he  is  a  learned  man ;  he  is  a  friend  of 
the  great  notary ;  he  will  tell  us  all  about  the  picture.  Make 
way,  there,  make  way  ! " 

Slowly  and  modestly,  Pandulfo  di  Guido,  a  quiet,  wealthy, 
and  honest  man  of  letters,  whom  nought  save  the  violence  of 
the  times  could  have  roused  from  his  tranquil  home  or  his 
studious  closet,  passed  to  the  chains.  He  looked  long  and  hard 
at  the  picture,  which  was  bright  with  new  and  yet  moist 
colors,  and  exhibited  somewhat  of  the  reviving  art,  which, 
though  hard  and  harsh  in  its  features,  was  about  that  time 
visible,  and,  carried  to  a  far  higher  degree,  we  yet  gaze  upon 
in  the  paintings  of  Perugino,  who  flourished  during  the  suc- 
ceeding generation.  The  people  pressed  round  the  learned 
man  with  open  mouths,  now  turning  their  eyes  to  the  picture, 
now  to  Pandulfo. 

"Know  you  not,"  at  length  said  Pandulfo,  "the  easy  and 
palpable  meaning  of  this  design  ?  Behold  how  the  painter 
has  presented  to  you  a  vast  and  stormy  sea ;  mark  how  its 
waves  —  " 

"  Speak  louder,  louder !  "  shouted  the  impatient  crowd. 

"  Hush ! "  cried  those  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Pandulfo ; 
"  the  worthy  Signer  is  perfectly  audible." 

Meanwhile,  some  of  the  more  witty,  pushing  towards  a  stall 
in  the  market-place,  bore  from  it  a  rough  table,  from  which 
they  besought  Pandulfo  to  address  the  people.  The  pale 
citizen,  with  some  pain  and  shame,  for  he  was  no  practised 
spokesman,  was  obliged  to  assent ;  but  when  he  cast  his  eyes 
over  the  vast  and  breathless  crowd,  his  own  deep  sympathy 
with  their  cause  inspired  and  emboldened  him.  A  light  broke 
from  his  eyes,  his  voice  swelled  into  power,  and  his  head, 
usually  buried  in  his  breast,  became  erect  and  commanding  in 
its  air. 

"You  see  before  you  in  the  picture,"  he  began  again,  "a 
mighty  and  tempestuous  sea ;  upon  its  waves  you  behold  five 
ships :  four  of  them  are  already  wrecks,  —  their  masts  are 
broken,  the  waves  are  dashing  through  the  rent  planks,  they 
are  past  all  aid  and  hope ;  on  each  of  these  ships  lies  the 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  67 

corpse  of  a  woman.  See  you  not,  in  the  wan  face  and  livid 
limbs,  how  faithfully  the  limner  hath  painted  the  hues  and 
loathsomeness  of  death  ?  Below  each  of  these  ships  is  a  word 
that  applies  the  metaphor  to  truth.  Yonder  you  see  the  name 
of  Carthage ;  the  other  three  are  Troy,  Jerusalem,  and  Baby- 
lon. To  these  four  is  one  common  inscription:  'To  exhaus- 
tion were  we  brought  by  injustice  ! '  Turn  now  your  eyes  to 
the  middle  of  the  sea,  —  there  you  behold  the  fifth  ship,  tossed 
amidst  the  waves,  her  mast  broken,  her  rudder  gone,  her  sails 
shivered,  but  not  yet  a  wreck  like  the  rest,  though  she  soon 
may  be.  On  her  deck  kneels  a  female  clothed  in  mourning,  — 
mark  the  woe  upon  her  countenance ;  how  cunningly  the  artist 
has  conveyed  its  depth  and  desolation  !  She  stretches  out  her 
arms  in  prayer,  she  implores  your  and  Heaven's  assistance. 
Mark  now  the  superscription :  '  This  is  Home ! '  Yes,  it  is 
your  country  that  addresses  you  in  this  emblem!" 

The  crowd  waved  to  and  fro,  and  a  deep  murmur  crept 
gathering  over  the  silence  which  they  had  hitherto  kept. 

"  Now,"  continued  Pandulfo,  "  turn  your  gaze  to  the  right 
of  the  picture,  and  you  will  behold  the  cause  of  the  tempest, 
you  will  see  why  the  fifth  vessel  is  thus  perilled,  and  her 
sisters  are  thus  wrecked.  Mark,  four  different  kinds  of  ani- 
mals, who  from  their  horrid  jaws  send  forth  the  winds  and 
storms  which  torture  and  rack  the  sea.  The  first  are  the  lions, 
the  wolves,  the  bears, — these,  the  inscription  tells  you,  are 
the  lawless  and  savage  signors  of  the  state.  The  next  are  the 
dogs  and  swine,  — these  are  the  evil  counsellors  and  parasites. 
Thirdly,  you  behold  the  dragons  and  the  foxes,  —  and  these 
are  false  judges  and  notaries,  and  they  who  sell  justice. 
Fourthly,  in  the  hares,  the  goats,  the  apes,  that  assist  in 
creating  the  storm,  you  perceive,  by  the  inscription,  the  em- 
blems of  the  popular  thieves  and  homicides,  ravishers  and 
spoliators.  Are  ye  bewildered  still,  0  Romans,  or  have  ye 
mastered  the  riddle  of  the  picture  ?  " 

Far  in  their  massive  palaces  the  Savelli  and  Orsini  heard  the 
echo  of  the  shouts  that  answered  the  question  of  Pandulfo. 

"  Are  ye,  then,  without  hope  ?  "  resumed  the  scholar,  as  the 
shout  ceased,  and  hushing,  with  the  first  sound  of  his  voice, 


«'.S  RIENZI: 

the  ejaculations  and  speeches  which  each  man  had  turned  to 
utter  to  his  neighbor.  "  Are  ye  without  hope  ?  Doth  the  pic- 
ture, which  shows  your  tribulation,  promise  you  no  redemp- 
tion ?  Behold,  above  that  angry  sea  the  heavens  open,  and 
the  majesty  of  God  descends  gloriously,  as  to  judgment ;  and 
from  the  rays  that  surround  the  Spirit  of  God  extend  two 
flaming  swords,  and  on  those  swords  stand,  in  wrath,  but  in 
deliverance,  the  two  patron  saints,  —  the  two  mighty  guar- 
dians of  your  city !  People  of  Rome,  farewell;  the  parable  is 
finished ! "  > 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    ROUGH   SPIRIT   RAISED,    WHICH    MAY    HEREAFTER   REND    THE 

WIZARD. 

WHILE  thus  animated  was  the  scene  around  the  Capitol, 
within  one  of  the  apartments  of  the  palace  sat  the  agent  and 
prime  cause  of  that  excitement.  In  the  company  of  his  quiet 
scribes,  Rienzi  appeared  absorbed  in  the  patient  details  of  his 
avocation.  While  the  murmur  and  the  hum,  the  shout  and 
the  tramp,  of  multitudes,  rolled  to  his  chamber,  he  seemed  not 
to  heed  them,  nor  to  rouse  himself  a  moment  from  his  task. 
With  the  unbroken  regularity  of  an  automaton,  he  continued  to 
enter  in  his  large  book,  and  with  the  clear  and  beautiful  char- 
acters of  the  period,  those  damning  figures  which  taught  him, 
better  than  declamations,  the  frauds  practised  on  the  people, 
and  armed  him  with  that  weapon  of  plain  fact  which  it  is  so 
difficult  for  abuse  to  parry. 

"  Page  2,  Vol.  B.,"  said  he,  in  the  tranquil  voice  of  business, 
to  the  clerks,  "  see  there  the  profits  of  the  salt  duty ;  depart- 

1  M.  Sismondi  attributes  to  Eienzi  a  fine  oration  at  the  showing  of  the 
picture,  in  which  lie  thundered  against  the  vices  of  the  patricians.  The  con- 
temporary biographer  of  Kienzi  says  nothing  of  this  harangue.  But,  appar- 
ently (since  history  has  its  liberties  as  well  as  fiction),  M.  Sismondi  has 
thought  it  convenient  to  confound  two  occasions  very  distinct  in  themselves. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  69 

ment  No.  3  —  very  well.  Page  9,  Vol.  D.  —  what  is  the  account 
rendered  by  Vescobaldi,  the  collector  ?  What !  twelve  thou- 
sand florins,  —  no  more  ?  Unconscionable  rascal ! "  (Here 
was  a  loud  shout  without  of  "  Pandulfo !  Long  live  Pan- 
dulfo ! "  )  "  Pastrucci,  my  friend,  your  head  wanders  ;  you  are 
listening  to  the  noise  without,  —  please  to  amuse  yourself  with 
the  calculation  I  intrusted  to  you.  Santi,  what  is  the  entry 
given  in  by  Antonio  Tralli  ?  " 

A  slight  tap  was  heard  at  the  door,  and  Pandulfo  entered. 

The  clerks  continued  their  labor,  though  they  looked  up  has- 
tily at  the  pale  and  respectable  visitor,  whose  name,  to  their 
great  astonishment,  had  thus  become  a  popular  cry. 

"  Ah !  my  friend,"  said  Rienzi,  calmly  enough  in  voice,  but 
his  hands  trembled  with  ill-suppressed  emotion,  "you  would 
speak  to  me  alone,  eh  ?  Well,  well ;  this  way."  Thus  saying, 
he  led  the  citizen  into  a  small  cabinet  in  the  rear  of  the  room 
of  office,  carefully  shut  the  door,  and  then  giving  himself  up 
to  the  natural  impatience  of  his  character,  seized  Pandulfo  by 
the  hand.  "  Speak !  "  cried  he.  "  Do  they  take  the  interpre- 
tation ?  Have  you  made  it  plain  and  palpable  enough  ?  Has 
it  sunk  deep  into  their  souls  ?  " 

"  Oh,  by  Saint  Peter,  yes ! "  returned  the  citizen,  whose 
spirits  were  elevated  by  his  recent  discovery  that  he,  too,  was 
an  orator,  —  a  luxurious  pleasure  for  a  timid  man.  "  They 
swallowed  every  word  of  the  interpretation ;  they  are  moved 
to  the  marrow ;  you  might  lead  them  this  very  hour  to  battle, 
and  find  them  heroes.  As  for  the  sturdy  smith  —  " 

"  What !  Cecco  del  Vecchio  ?  "  interrupted  Eienzi.  "  Ah  ! 
his  heart  is  wrought  in  bronze  :  what  did  he  ?  " 

"  Why,  he  caught  me  by  the  hem  of  my  robe  as  I  descended 
my  rostrum  (oh,  would  you  could  have  seen  me !  Per  fede,  I 
had  caught  your  mantle  ;  I  was  a  second  you  !  )  and  said,  weep- 
ing like  a  child,  '  Ah,  Signor,  I  am  but  a  poor  man,  and  of 
little  worth ;  but  if  every  drop  of  blood  in  this  body  were  a 
life,  I  would  give  it  for  my  country  ! ' " 

"  Brave  soul,"  said  Rienzi,  with  emotion ;  "  would  Rome  had 
but  fifty  such!  No  man  hath  done  us  more  good  among  his 
own  class  than  Cecco  del  Vecchio." 


70  RIENZI : 

"They  feel  a  protection  in  his  very  size,"  said  Pandulfo. 
"It  is  something  to  hear  such  big  words  from  such  a  big 
fellow." 

"Were  there  any  voices  lifted  in  disapprobation  of  the 
picture  and  its  sentiment  ?  " 

"None." 

"  The  time  is  nearly  ripe,  then ;  a  few  suns  more,  and  the 
fruit  must  be  gathered.  The  Aventine,  the  Lateran,  and  then 
the  solitary  trumpet/"  Thus  saying,  Kienzi,  with  folded  arms 
and  downcast  eyes,  seemed  sunk  into  a  revery. 

"  By  the  way, '  said  Pandulfo,  "  I  had  almost  forgot  to  tell 
thee  that  the  crowd  would  have  poured  themselves  hither,  so 
impatient  were  they  to  see  thee ;  but  I  bade  Cecco  del  Vecchio 
mount  the  rostrum  and  tell  them,  in  his  blunt  way,  that  it 
would  be  unseemly  at  the  present  time,  when  thou  wert  en- 
gaged in  the  Capitol  on  civil  and  holy  affairs,  to  rush  in  so 
great  a  body  into  thy  presence.  Did  I  not  right  ?  " 

"  Most  right,  my  Pandulfo." 

"But  Cecco  del  Vecchio  says  he  must  come  and  kiss  thy 
hand;  and  thou  mayest  expect  him  here  the  moment  he  can 
escape  unobserved  from  the  crowd." 

"  He  is  welcome ! "  said  Kienzi,  half  mechanically,  for  he 
was  still  absorbed  in  thought. 

"And  lo  !  here  he  is,"  as.  one  of  the  scribes  announced  the 
visit  of  the  smith. 

"  Let  him  be  admitted ! "  said  Kienzi,  seating  himself 
composedly. 

When  the  huge  smith  found  himself  in  the  presence  of 
Kienzi,  it  amused  Pandulfo  to  perceive  the  wonderful  influences 
of  mind  over  matter.  That  fierce  and  sturdy  giant,  who  in  all 
popular  commotions  towered  above  his  tribe,  with  thews  of 
stone  and  nerves  of  iron,  the  rallying  point  and  bulwark  of 
the  rest,  stood  now  coloring  and  trembling  before  the  intellect 
which  (so  had  the  eloquent  spirit  of  Rienzi  waked  and  fanned 
the  spark  which,  till  then,  had  lain  dormant  in  that  rough 
bosom)  might  almost  be  said  to  have  created  his  own.  And 
he,  indeed,  who  first  arouses  in  the  bondsman  the  sense  and 
soul  of  freedom  comes  as  near  as  is  permitted  to  man,  nearer 


THE   LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  71 

than  the  philosopher,  nearer  even  than  the  poet,  to  the  great 
creative  attribute  of  God !  But  if  the  breast  be  uneducated, 
the  gift  may  curse  the  giver ;  and  he  who  passes  at  once  from 
the  slave  to  the  freeman  may  pass  as  rapidly  from  the  freeman 
to  the  ruffian. 

"  Approach,  my  friend,"  said  Eienzi,  after  a  moment's  pause ; 
"I  know  all  that  thou  hast  done,  and  wouldst  do,  for  Eome. 
Thou  art  worthy  of  her  best  days,  and  thou  art  born  to  share 
in  their  return." 

The  smith  dropped  at  the  feet  of  Kienzi,  who  held  out  his 
hand  to  raise  him,  which  Cecco  del  Vecchio  seized  and  reveren- 
tially kissed. 

"  This  kiss  does  not  betray,"  said  Eienzi,  smiling;  "but  rise, 
my  friend,  —  this  posture  is  only  due  to  God  and  His  saints ! " 

"  He  is  a  saint  who  helps  us  at  need,"  said  the  smith,  bluntly, 
"and  that  no  man  has  done  as  thou  hast.  But  when,"  he 
added,  sinking  his  voice,  and  fixing  his  eyes  hard  on  Eienzi,  as 
one  may  do  who  waits  a  signal  to  strike  a  blow,  "when  — 
when  shall  we  make  the  great  effort  ? " 

"  Thou  hast  spoken  to  all  the  brave  men  in  thy  neighbor- 
hood: are  they  well  prepared?" 

"  To  live  or  die,  as  Eienzi  bids  them  ! " 

"I  must  have  the  list — the  number,  names,  houses,  and 
callings  —  this  night." 

"  Thou  shalt." 

"Each  man  must  sign  his  name  or  mark  with  his  owu 
hand." 

"  It  shall  be  done." 

"Then,  hark  ye!  attend  Pandulfo  di  Guido  at  his  house 
this  evening  at  sunset.  He  shall  instruct  thee  where  to  meet 
this  night  some  brave  hearts;  thou  art  worthy  to  be  ranked 
amongst  them.  Thou  wilt  not  fail  ?  " 

"  By  the  Holy  Stairs  !  I  will  count  every  minute  till  then," 
said  the  smith,  his  swarthy  face  lighted  with  pride  at  the  con- 
fidence shown  him. 

"  Meanwhile,  watch  all  your  neighbors ;  let  no  man  flag  or 
grow  faint-hearted :  none  of  thy  friends  must  be  branded  as  a 
traitor ! " 


72  RIKNZI : 

"I  will  cut  his  throat,  were  he  my  own  mother's  son,  if  I 
find  one  pledged  man  flinch ! "  said  the  fierce  smith. 

"  Ha,  ha ! "  rejoined  Kienzi,  with  that  strange  laugh  which 
belonged  to  him,  "  a  miracle  1  a  miracle !  The  Picture  speaks 

now  !  " 

It  was  already  nearly  dusk  when  Eienzi  left  the  Capitol. 
The  broad  space  before  its  walls  was  empty  and  deserted, 
and  wrapping  his  mantle  closely  round  him,  he  walked  mus- 
ingly on. 

"  I  have  almost  climbed  the  height,"  thought  he,  "  and  now 
the  precipice  yawns  before  me.  If  I  fail,  what  a  fall !  The 
last  hope  of  my  country  falls  with  me.  Never  will  a  noble 
rise  against  the  nobles ;  never  will  another  plebeian  have  the 
opportunities  and  the  power  that  I  have !  Rome  is  bound  up 
with  me,  —  with  a  single  life.  The  liberties  of  all  time  are 
fixed  to  a  reed  that  a  wind  may  uproot.  But,  0  Providence  ! 
hast  thou  not  reserved  and  marked  me  for  great  deeds  ?  How, 
step  by  step,  have  I  been  led  on  to  this  solemn  enterprise ! 
How  has  each  hour  prepared  its  successor !  And  yet  what 
danger!  If  the  inconstant  people,  made  cowardly  by  long 
thraldom,  do  but  waver  in  the  crisis,  I  am  swept  away ! " 

As  he  spoke,  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  lo !  before  him  the  first 
star  of  twilight  shone  calmly  down  upon  the  crumbling  rem- 
nants of  the  Tarpeian  Rock.  It  was  no  favoring  omen,  and 
Ilienzi's  heart  beat  quicker  as  that  dark  and  ruined  mass 
frowned  thus  suddenly  on  his  gaze. 

"  Dread  monument,"  thought  he,  "  of  what  dark  catastrophes, 
to  what  unknown  schemes,  hast  thou  been  the  witness !  To 
how  many  enterprises,  on  which  history  is  dumb,  hast  thou  set 
the  seal !  How  know  we  whether  they  were  criminal  or  just  ? 
How  know  we  whether  he,  thus  doomed  as  a  traitor,  would 
not,  if  successful,  have  been  immortalized  as  a  deliverer  ?  If 
I  fall,  who  will  write  my  chronicle  ?  One  of  the  people  ? 
Alas !  blinded  and  ignorant,  they  furnish  forth  no  minds  that 
can  appeal  to  posterity.  One  of  the  patricians  ?  In  what 
colors  then  shall  I  be  painted!  No  tomb  will  rise  for  me 
amidst  the  wrecks ;  no  hand  scatter  flowers  upon  my  grave ! " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  73 

Thus  meditating  on  the  verge  of  that  mighty  enterprise  to 
which  he  had  devoted  himself,  Kienzi  pursued  his  way.  He 
gained  the  Tiber,  and  paused  for  a  few  moments  beside  its 
legendary  stream,  over  which  the  purple  and  star-lit  heaven 
shone  deeply  down.  He  crossed  the  bridge  which  leads  to  the 
quarter  of  the  Trastevere,  whose  haughty  inhabitants  yet  boast 
themselves  the  sole  descendants  of  the  ancient  Romans.  Here 
his  step  grew  quicker  and  more  light ;  brighter,  if  less  solemn, 
thoughts  crowded  upon  his  breast ;  and  ambition,  lulled  for  a 
moment,  left  his  strained  and  over-labored  mind  to  the  reign  of 
a  softer  passion. 


CHAPTER  XL 

NINA    DI   EASELLI. 

"  I  TELL  you,  Lucia,  I  do  not  love  those  stuffs ;  they  do  not 
become  me.  Saw  you  ever  so  poor  a  dye  ?  This  purple,  in- 
deed ;  that  crimson !  Why  did  you  let  the  man  leave  them  ? 
Let  him  take  them  elsewhere  to-morrow.  They  may  suit  the 
signoras  on  the  other  side  the  Tiber,  who  imagine  everything 
Venetian  must  be  perfect ;  but  I,  Lucia,  /  see  with  my  own 
eyes,  and  judge  from  my  own  mind." 

"  Ah,  dear  lady,"  said  the  serving-maid,  "  if  you  were,  as  you 
doubtless  will  be,  some  time  or  other,  a  grand  signora,  how 
worthily  you  would  wear  the  honors !  Santa  Cecilia !  no 
other  dame  in  Rome  would  be  looked  at  while  the  Lady  Nina 
were  by." 

"  Would  we  not  teach  them  what  pomp  was  ? "  answered 
Nina.  "Oh,  what  festivals  would  we  hold!  Saw  you  not 
from  the  gallery  Che  revels  given  last  week  by  the  Lady  Giulia 
Savelli  ?  " 

"Ay,  Signora;  and  when  you  walked  up  the  hall  in  your 
silver  and  pearl  tissue,  there  ran  such  a  murmur  through  the 
gallery;  every  one  cried,  'The  Savelli  have  entertained  an 
angel ! ' ' 

"  Pish !  Lucia ;  no  flattery,  girl ! " 


74  RIEXZI : 

"  It  is  naked  truth,  lady.  But  that  was  a  revel,  was  it  not  ? 
There  was  grandeur !  —  fifty  servitors  in  scarlet  and  gold ;  and 
the  music  playing  all  the  while.  The  minstrels  were  sent  for 
from  Bergamo.  Did  not  that  festival  please  you?  Ah,  I 
warrant  many  were  the  fine  speeches  made  to  you  that  day ! " 

"  Ileigho !  No,  there  was  one  voice  wanting,  and  all  the 
music  was  marred.  But,  girl,  were  /the  Lady  Giulia,  I  would 
not  have  been  contented  with  so  poor  a  revel." 

"  How,  poor  !  Why,  all  the  nobles  say  it  outdid  the  proudest 
marriage-feast  of  the  Colonna.  Nay,  a  Neapolitan  who  sat 
next  me,  who  had  served  under  the  young  queen  Joanna  at  her 
marriage,  says  that  even  Naples  was  outshone." 

"  That  may  be,  —  I  know  nought  of  Naples ;  but  I  know 
what  my  court  should  have  been,  were  I  what  —  what  I  am  not, 
and  may  never  be !  The  banquet  vessels  should  have  been  of 
gold ;  the  cups  jewelled  to  the  brim ;  not  an  inch  of  the  rude 
pavement  should  have  been  visible;  all  should  have  glowed 
with  cloth  of  gold.  The  fountain  in  the  court  should  have 
showered  up  the  perfumes  of  the  East ;  my  pages  should  not 
have  been  rough  youths,  blushing  at  their  own  uncouthness, 
but  fair  boys,  who  had  not  told  their  twelfth  year,  culled  from 
the  daintiest  palaces  of  Koine;  and  as  for  the  music,  oh, 
Lucia!  each  musician  should  have  worn  a  chaplet,  and  de- 
served it ;  and  he  who  played  best  should  have  had  a  reward, 
to  inspire  all  the  rest,  —  a  rose  from  me.  Saw  you,  too,  the 
Lady  Giulia's  robe  ?  What  colors,  —  they  might  have  put  out 
the  sun  at  noonday  !  yellow,  and  blue,  and  orange,  and  scarlet ! 
Oh,  sweet  Saints !  but  my  eyes  ached  all  the  next  day." 

"  Doubtless,  the  Lady  Giulia  lacks  your  skill  in  the  mixture 
of  colors,"  said  the  complaisant  waiting-woman. 

"And  then,  too,  what  a  mien,  —  no  royalty  in  it!  She 
moved  along  the  hall  so  that  her  train  wellnigh  tripped  her 
every  moment;  and  then  she  said,  with  a  foolish  laugh, 
'  These  holiday  robes  are  but  troublesome  luxuries.'  Troth, 
for  the  great  there  should  be  no  holiday  robes  ;  't  is  for  myself, 
not  for  others,  that  I  would  attire  !  Every  day  should  have  its 
new  robe,  more  gorgeous  than  the  last ;  every  day  should  be  a 
holiday ! " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  75 

" Methought,"  said  Lucia,  "that  the  Lord  Giovanni  Orsini 
seemed  very  devoted  to  my  lady." 

"He!  the  bear!" 

"  Bear  he  may  be,  but  he  has  a  costly  skin.  His  riches  are 
untold." 

"And  the  fool  knows  not  how  to  spend  them." 

"  Was  not  that  the  young  Lord  Adrian  who  spoke  to  you  just 
by  the  columns,  where  the  music  played  ?  " 

« It  might  be ;  I  forget." 

"  Yet  I  hear  that  few  ladies  forget  when  Lord  Adrian  di 
Castello  wooes  them." 

"There  was  but  one  man  whose  company  seemed  to  me 
worth  the  recollection,"  answered  Nina,  unheeding  the  insinua- 
tion of  the  artful  handmaid. 

"  And  who  was  he  ?  "  asked  Lucia. 

"  The  old  scholar  from  Avignon." 

"  What !  he  with  the  gray  beard  ?     Oh,  Signora! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Nina,  with  a  grave  and  sad  voice ;  "  when  he 
spoke,  the  whole  scene  vanished  from  my  eyes,  —  for  he  spoke 
to  me  of  HIM  ! " 

As  she  said  this,  the  Signora  sighed  deeply,  and  the  tears 
gathered  to  her  eyes. 

The  waiting-woman  raised  her  lips  in  disdain,  and  her  looks 
in  wonder ;  but  she  did  not  dare  to  venture  a  reply. 

"  Open  the  lattice,"  said  Nina,  after  a  pause,  "  and  give  me 
yon  paper.  Not  that,  girl,  but  the  verses  sent  me  yesterday. 
What !  art  thou  Italian,  and  dost  thou  not  know,  by  instinct, 
that  I  spoke  of  the  rhyme  of  Petrarch  ?  " 

Seated  by  the  open  casement,  through  which  the  moonlight 
stole  soft  and  sheen,  with  one  lamp  beside  her,  from  which  she 
seemed  to  shade  her  eyes,  though  in  reality  she  sought  to 
hide  her  countenance  from  Lucia,  the  young  Signora  appeared 
absorbed  in  one  of  those  tender  sonnets  which  then  turned  the 
brains  and  inflamed  the  hearts  of  Italy.1 

1  Although  it  is  true  that  the  love  sonnets  of  Petrarch  were  not  then,  as 
now,  the  most  esteemed  of  his  works,  yet  it  has  been  a  great,  though  a  com- 
mon, error  to  represent  them  as  little  known  and  coldly  admired.  Their 
effect  was,  in  reality,  prodigious  and  universal.  Every  ballad-singer  sang 


Tt1.  RIENZI: 

Born  of  an  impoverished  house,  which  though  boasting  its 
descent  from  a  consular  race  of  Rome,  scarcely  at  that  day 
maintained  a  rank  amongst  the  inferior  order  of  nobility,  Nina 
di  Raselli  was  the  spoiled  child,  the  idol  and  the  tyrant,  of  her 
parents.  The  energetic  and  self-willed  character  of  her  mind 
made  her  rule  where  she  should  have  obeyed ;  and  as  in  all  ages 
dispositions  can  conquer  custom,  she  had,  though  in  a  clime 
and  land  where  the  young  and  unmarried  of  her  sex  are  usually 
chained  and  fettered,  assumed,  and  by  assuming  won,  the  pre- 
rogative of  independence.  She  possessed,  it  is  true,  more 
learning  and  more  genius  than  generally  fell  to  the  share  of 
women  in  that  day,  and  enough  of  both  to  be  deemed  a  mira- 
cle by  her  parents.  She  had  also,  what  they  valued  more,  a 
surpassing  beauty,  and  what  they  feared  more,  an  indomitable 
haughtiness,  —  a  haughtiness  mixed  with  a  thousand  soft  and 
endearing  qualities  where  she  loved,  and  which,  indeed,  where 
she  loved,  seemed  to  vanish.  At  once  vain  yet  high-minded, 
resolute  yet  impassioned,  there  was  a  gorgeous  magnificence  in 
her  very  vanity  and  splendor,  —  an  ideality  in  her  wayward- 
ness. Her  defects  made  a  part  of  her  brilliancy ;  without  them 
she  would  have  seemed  less  woman ;  and,  knowing  her,  you 
would  have  compared  all  women  by  her  standard.  Softer 
qualities  beside  her  seemed  not  more  charming,  but  more  in- 
sipid. She  had  no  vulgar  ambition,  for  she  had  obstinately 
refused  many  alliances  which  the  daughter  of  Raselli  could 
scarcely  have  hoped  to  form.  The  untutored  minds  and  savage 
power  of  the  Roman  nobles  seemed  to  her  imagination,  which 
was  full  of  the  poetry  of  rank,  its  luxury  and  its  graces,  as 
something  barbarous  and  revolting,  at  once  to  be  dreaded  and 
despised.  She  had,  therefore,  passed  her  twentieth  year  un- 
married, but  not  without  love.  The  faults  themselves  of  her 
character,  elevated  that  ideal  of  love  which  she  had  formed. 
She  required  some  being  round  whom  all  her  vainer  qualities 
could  rally  ;  she  felt  that  where  she  loved  she  must  adore ; 
she  demanded  no  common  idol  before  which  to  humble  so  strong 
and  imperious  a  mind.  Unlike  women  of  a  gentler  mould, 

them  in  the  streets  (says  Filippo  Villani).     Gravissimi  nesciebant  abstinere,— 
"  Even  the  gravest  could  not  abstain  from  them." 


THE   LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  77 

who  desire  for  a  short  period  to  exercise  the  caprices  of  sweet 
empire,  —  when  she  loved  she  must  cease  to  command,  and 
pride  at  once  be  humbled  to  devotion.  So  rare  were  the  quali- 
ties that  could  attract  her,  so  imperiously  did  her  haughtiness 
require  that  those  qualities  should  be  above  her  own  yet  of  the 
same  order,  that  her  love  elevated  its  object  like  a  god.  Ac- 
customed to  despise,  she  felt  all  the  luxury  it  is  to  venerate. 
And  if  it  were  her  lot  to  be  united  with  one  thus  loved,  her 
nature  was  that  which  might  become  elevated  by  the  nature 
that  it  gazed  on.  For  her  beauty,  Header,  shouldst  thou  ever 
go  to  Eome,  thou  wilt  see  in  the  Capitol  the  picture  of  the 
Cumsean  Sibyl,  which,  often  copied,  no  copy  can  even  faintly 
represent.  I  beseech  thee,  mistake  not  this  sibyl  for  another, 
for  the  Koman  galleries  abound  in  sibyls.1  The  sibyl  I  speak 
of  is  dark,  and  the  face  has  an  Eastern  cast ;  the  robe  and  tur- 
ban, gorgeous  though  they  be,  grow  dim  before  the  rich  but 
transparent  roses  of  the  cheek ;  the  hair  would  be  black,  save 
for  that  golden  glow  which  mellows  it  to  a  hue  and  lustre 
never  seen  but  in  the  South,  and  even  in  the  South  most  rare  ; 
the  features,  not  Grecian,  are  yet  faultless ;  the  mouth,  the  brow, 
the  ripe  and  exquisite  contour,  all  are  human  and  voluptuous ; 
the  expression,  the  aspect,  is  something  more ;  the  form  is 
perhaps  too  full  for  the  perfection  of  loveliness,  for  the  propor- 
tions of  sculpture,  for  the  delicacy  of  Athenian  models :  but 
the  luxuriant  fault  has  a  majesty.  Gaze  long  upon  that  pic- 
ture :  it  charms,  yet  commands,  the  eye.  While  you  gaze,  you 
call  back  five  centuries ;  you  see  before  you  the  breathing  image 
of  Nina  di  Raselli ! 

But  it  was  not  those  ingenious  and  elaborate  conceits  in 
which  Petrarch,  great  Poet  though  he  be,  has  so  often  mis- 
taken pedantry  for  passion,  that  absorbed  at  that  moment  the 
attention  of  the  beautiful  Nina.  Her  eyes  rested  not  on  the 
page,  but  on  the  garden  that  stretched  below  the  casement. 
Over  the  old  fruit-trees  and  hanging  vines  fell  the  moonshine ; 
and  in  the  centre  of  the  green  but  half-neglected  sward,  the 

1  The  sibyl  referred  to  is  the  well-known  one  by  Domenichino.  As  a  mere 
work  of  art,  that  by  Guercino,  called  the  Persian  sibyl,  in  the  same  collection, 
is  perhaps  superior ;  but  in  beauty,  in  character,  there  is  no  comparison. 


78  RIENZI  : 

waters  of  a  small  and  circular  fountain,  whose  perfect  propor- 
tions spoke  of  days  long  past,  played  and  sparkled  in  the  star- 
light The  scene  was  still  and  beautiful;  but  neither  of  its 
stillness  nor  its  beauty  thought  Nina :  towards  one,  the  gloomi- 
est and  most  rugged  spot  in  the  whole  garden,  turned  her  gaze ; 
there  the  trees  stood  densely  massed  together,  and  shut  from 
view  the  low  but  heavy  wall  which  encircled  the  mansion  of 
Raselli.  The  boughs  on  those  trees  stirred  gently,  but  Nina 
saw  them  wave ;  and  now  from  the  copse  emerged,  slowly  and 
cautiously,  a  solitary  figure,  whose  shadow  threw  itself,  long 
and  dark,  over  the  sward.  It  approached  the  window,  and  a 
low  voice  breathed  Nina's  name. 

"  Quick,  Lucia !  "  cried  she,  breathlessly,  turning  to  her  hand- 
maid ;  "  quick !  the  rope-ladder !  it  is  he !  he  is  come !  How 
slow  you  are !  Haste,  girl ;  he  may  be  discovered !  There,  — 
0  joy !  0  joy !  My  lover !  my  hero !  my  Eienzi ! " 

"  It  is  you ! "  said  Eienzi,  as,  now  entering  the  chamber,  he 
wound  his  arms  around  her  half-averted  form ;  "  and  what  is 
night  to  others  is  day  to  me!" 

The  first  sweet  moments  of  welcome  were  over,  and  Rienzi  was 
seated  at  the  feet  of  his  mistress,  his  head  rested  on  her  knees, 
his  face  looking  up  to  hers,  their  hands  clasped  each  in  each. 

"  And  for  me  thou  bravest  these  dangers ! "  said  the  lover, 
—  "  the  shame  of  discovery,  the  wrath  of  thy  parents  !  " 

"  But  what  are  my  perils  to  thine  ?  Oh,  Heaven !  if  my 
father  found  thee  here  thou  wouldst  die." 

"  He  would  think  it  then  so  great  a  humiliation  that  thou, 
beautiful  Nina,  who  mightst  match  with  the  haughtiest  names 
of  Kome,  shouldst  waste  thy  love  on  a  plebeian,  even  though 
the  grandson  of  an  emperor!" 

The  proud  heart  of  Nina  could  sympathize  well  with  the 
wounded  pride  of  her  lover ;  she  detected  the  soreness  which 
lurked  beneath  his  answer,  carelessly  as  it  was  uttered. 

"  Hast  thou  not  told  me,"  she  said,  "  of  that  great  Marius, 
who  was  no  noble,  but  from  whom  the  loftiest  Colonna  would 
rejoice  to  claim  his  descent  ?  And  do  I  not  know  in  thee  one 
who  shall  yet  eclipse  the  power  of  Marius,  unsullied  by  his 
vices  ?  " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  79 

"  Delicious  flattery ;  sweet  prophet ! "  said  Bienzi,  with  a 
melancholy  smile.  "Never  were  thy  supporting  promises  of 
the  future  more  welcome  to  me  than  now ;  for  to  thee  I  will 
say  what  I  would  utter  to  none  else,  —  my  soul  half  sinks  be- 
neath the  mighty  burden  I  have  heaped  upon  it.  I  want  new 
courage  as  the  dread  hour  approaches;  and  from  thy  words 
and  looks  I  drink  it." 

"  Oh ! "  answered  Nina,  blushing  as  she  spoke,  "  glorious  is 
indeed  the  lot  which  I  have  bought  by  my  love  for  thee,  — 
glorious  to  share  thy  schemes,  to  cheer  thee  in  doubt,  to 
whisper  hope  to  thee  in  danger!" 

"  And  give  grace  to  me  in  triumph ! "  added  Bienzi,  passion- 
ately. "  Ah !  should  the  future  ever  place  upon  these  brows 
the  laurel-wreath  due  to  one  who  has  saved  his  country,  what 
joy,  what  recompense,  to  lay  it  at  thy  feet !  Perhaps,  in  those 
long  and  solitary  hours  of  languor  and  exhaustion  which  fill  up 
the  interstices  of  time,  the  dull  space  for  sober  thought  be- 
tween the  epochs  of  exciting  action,  —  perhaps  I  should  have 
failed  and  flagged,  and  renounced  even  my  dreams  for  Home, 
had  they  not  been  linked  also  with  my  dreams  for  thee,  had  I 
not  pictured  to  myself  the  hour  when  my  fate  should  elevate 
me  beyond  my  birth,  when  thy  sire  would  deem  it  no  disgrace 
to  give  thee  to  my  arms,  when  thou  too  shouldst  stand  amidst 
the  dames  of  Rome,  more  honored,  as  more  beautiful,  than  all, 
and  when  I  should  see  that  pomp,  which  my  own  soul  dis- 
dains,1 made  dear  and  grateful  to  me  because  associated  with 
thee !  Yes,  it  is  these  thoughts  that  have  inspired  me  when 
sterner  ones  have  shrunk  back,  appalled  from  the  spectres  that 
surround  their  goal.  And  oh,  my  Nina,  sacred,  strong,  enduring 
must  be  indeed  the  love  which  lives  in  the  same  pure  and  ele- 
vated air  as  that  which  sustains  my  hopes  of  liberty  and  fame ! " 

This  was  the  language  which,  more  even  than  the  vows  of 
fidelity  and  the  dear  adulation  which  springs  from  the  heart's 
exuberance,  had  bound  the  proud  and  vain  soul  of  Nina  to  the 
chains  that  it  so  willingly  wore.  Perhaps,  indeed,  in  the  ab- 

1  "  Quern  semper  abhorrui  sicut  cenum  "  is  the  expression  used  by  Rienzi 
in  his  letter  to  his  friend  at  Avignon,  and  which  was  probably  sincere.  Men 
rarely  act  according  to  the  bias  of  their  own  tastes. 


80  RIENZI : 

sence  of  Rienzi  her  weaker  nature  pictured  to  herself  the 
triumph  of  humbling  the  high-born  signoras  and  eclipsing  the 
barbarous  magnificence  of  the  chiefs  of  Rome;  but  in  his 
presence,  and  listening  to  his  more  elevated  and  generous 
ambition,  as  yet  all  unsullied  by  one  private  feeling  save  the 
hope  of  her,  her  higher  sympathies  were  enlisted  with  his 
schemes,  her  mind  aspired  to  raise  itself  to  the  height  of  his, 
and  she  thought  less  of  her  own  rise  than  of  his  glory.  It 
was  sweet  to  her  pride  to  be  the  sole  confidante  of  his  most 
secret  thoughts,  as  of  his  most  hardy  undertakings;  to  see 
bared  before  her  that  intricate  and  plotting  spirit ;  to  be  ad- 
mitted even  to  the  knowledge  of  its  doubts  and  weakness,  as 
of  its  heroism  and  power. 

Nothing  could  be  more  contrasted  than  the  loves  of  Rienzi 
and  Nina,  and  those  of  Adrian  and  Irene :  in  the  latter  all 
were  the  dreams,  the  phantasies,  the  extravagance,  of  youth ; 
they  never  talked  of  the  future ;  they  mingled  no  other  aspi- 
rations with  those  of  love.  Ambition,  glory,  the  world's  high 
objects,  were  nothing  to  them  when  together ;  their  love  had 
swallowed  up  the  world,  and  left  nothing  visible  beneath  the 
sun  save  itself.  But  the  passion  of  Nina  and  her  lover  was 
that  of  more  complicated  natures  and  more  mature  years ;  it 
was  made  up  of  a  thousand  feelings,  each  naturally  severed 
from  each,  but  compelled  into  one  focus  by  the  mighty  concen- 
tration of  love ;  their  talk  was  of  the  world ;  it  was  from  the 
world  that  they  drew  the  aliment  which  sustained  it ;  it  was 
of  the  future  they  spoke  and  thought,  of  its  dreams  and  im- 
agined glories  they  made  themselves  a  home  and  altar ;  their 
love  had  in  it  more  of  the  Intellectual  than  that  of  Adrian  and 
Irene ;  it  was  more  fitted  forlthls  hard  earth ;  it  had  in  it,  also, 
more  of  the  leaven  of  the  later  and  iron  days,  and  less  of  poe- 
try and  the  first  golden  age. 

"  And  must  thou  leave  me  now  ?  "  said  Nina,  her  cheek  no 
more  averted  from  his  lips,  nor  her  form  from  his  parting 
embrace.  "  The  moon  is  high  yet ;  it  is  but  a  little  hour  thou 
hast  given  me." 

"  An  hour !  Alas  ! "  said  Rienzi,  "  it  is  near  upon  midnight  5 
our  friends  await  me." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  81 

"Go,  then,  my  soul's  best  half,  go;  Nina  shall  not  detain 
thee  one  moment  from  those  higher  objects  which  make  thee  so 
dear  to  Nina.  When,  when  shall  we  meet  again  ?  " 

"  Not,"  said  Eienzi,  proudly,  and  with  all  his  soul  upon  his 
brow,  "  not  thus,  by  stealth,  no !  nor  as  I  thus  have  met  thee, 
the  obscure  and  contemned  bondsman !  When  next  thou  seest 
me,  it  shall  be  at  the  head  of  the  sons  of  Eome,  her  champion, 
her  restorer,  or  —  "  said  he,  sinking  his  voice  — 

"There  is  no  or!"  interrupted  Nina,  weaving  her  arms 
round  him  and  catching  his  enthusiasm ;  "  thou  hast  uttered 
thine  own  destiny  !  " 

"  One  kiss  more !  Farewell !  The  tenth  day  from  the 
morrow  shines  upon  the  restoration  of  Rome ! " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    STRANGE    ADVENTURES    THAT    BEFELL    WALTER    DE 
MONTREAL. 

IT  was  upon  that  same  evening,  and  while  the  earlier  stars 
yet  shone  over  the  city,  that  Walter  de  Montreal,  returning 
alone  to  the  convent  then  associated  with  the  church  of  Santa 
Maria  del  Priorata  (both  of  which  belonged  to  the  Knights  of 
the  Hospital,  and  in  the  first  of  which  Montreal  had  taken  his 
lodgment),  paused  amidst  the  ruins  and  desolation  which  lay 
around  his  path.  Though  little  skilled  in  the  classic  memo- 
ries and  associations  of  the  spot,  he  could  not  but  be  impressed 
with  the  surrounding  witnesses  of  departed  empire,  the  vast 
skeleton,  as  it  were,  of  the  dead  giantess. 

"Now,"  thought  he,  as  he  gazed  around  upon  the  roofless 
columns  and  shattered  walls  everywhere  visible,  over  which 
the  starlight  shone,  ghastly  and  transparent,  backed  by  the 
frowning  and  embattled  fortresses  of  the  Frangipani,  half  hid 
by  the  dark  foliage  that  sprang  up  amidst  the  very  fanes  and 
palaces  of  old,  —  Nature  exulting  over  the  frailer  Art,  — 
"now,"  thought  he,  "bookmen  would  be  inspired,  by  this 

VOL.    I.  —  6 


82  RIENZI : 

scene,  with  fantastic  and  dreaming  visions  of  the  past.  But 
to  me  these  monuments  of  high  ambition  and  royal  splendor 
create  only  images  of  the  future.  Rome  may  yet  be,  with  her 
seven-hilled  diadem,  as  Rome  has  been  before,  —  the  prize  of 
the  strongest  hand  and  the  boldest  warrior ;  revived,  not  by 
her  own  degenerate  sous,  but  the  infused  blood  of  a  new  race. 
William  the  Bastard  could  scarce  have  found  the  hardy  Eng- 
lishers  so  easy  a  conquest  as  Walter  the  Well-born  may  find 
these  eunuch  Romans.  And  which  conquest  were  the  more 
glorious,  —  the  barbarous  Isle,  or  the  Metropolis  of  the 
World  ?  Short  step  from  the  general  to  the  podesta ;  shorter 
step  from  the  podesta  to  the  king  ! " 

While  thus  revolving  his  wild,  yet  not  altogether  chimerical 
ambition,  a  quick,  light  step  was  heard  amidst  the  long  herb- 
age, and  looking  up,  Montreal  perceived  the  figure  of  a  tall 
female  descending  from  that  part  of  the  hill  then  covered  by 
many  convents,  towards  the  base  of  the  Aventine.  She  sup- 
ported her  steps  with  a  long  staff,  and  moved  with  such  elas- 
ticity and  erectness  that  now,  as  her  face  became  visible  by 
the  starlight,  it  was  surprising  to  perceive  that  it  was  the 
face  of  one  advanced  in  years,  —  a  harsh,  proud  countenance, 
withered  and  deeply  wrinkled,  but  not  without  a  certain  regu- 
larity of  outline. 

"  Merciful  Virgin ! "  cried  Montreal,  starting  back  as  that 
face  gleamed  upon  him ;  "  is  it  possible  ?  It  is  she  —  it 
is—" 

He  sprang  forward  and  stood  right  before  the  old  woman, 
who  seemed  equally  surprised,  though  more  dismayed,  at  the 
sight  of  Montreal. 

"I  have  sought  thee  for  years,"  said  the  Knight,  first 
breaking  the  silence,  —  "years,  long  years;  thy  conscience 
can  tell  thee  why." 

"  Mine,  man  of  blood ! "  cried  the  female,  trembling  with 
rage  or  fear.  "  Darest  thou  talk  of  conscience,  —  thou,  the 
dishonorer,  the  robber,  the  professed  homicide;  thou,  dis- 
grace to  knighthood  and  to  birth;  thou,  with  the  cross  of 
chastity  and  of  peace  upon  thy  breast!  thou  talk  of  con- 
science, hypocrite  !  thou  ?  " 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  83 

"  Lady,  lady !  "  said  Montreal,  deprecatingly,  and  almost 
quailing  beneath  the  fiery  passion  of  that  feeble  woman,  "I 
have  sinned  against  thee  and  thine.  But  remember  all  my 
excuses,  —  early  love,  fatal  obstacles,  rash  vow,  irresistible 
temptation!  Perhaps,"  he  added,  in  a  more  haughty  tone, 
"  perhaps  yet  I  may  have  the  power  to  atone  my  error,  and 
wring,  with  mailed  hand,  from  the  successor  of  Saint  Peter, 
who  hath  power  to  loose  as  to  bind  —  " 

"Perjured  and  abandoned,"  interrupted  the  female,  "dost 
thou  dream  that  violence  can  purchase  absolution,  or  that  thou 
canst  ever  atone  the  past,  —  a  noble  name  disgraced,  a  father's 
broken  heart  and  dying  curse  ?  Yes,  that  curse,  I  hear  it 
now !  It  rings  upon  me  thrillingly,  as  when  I  watched  the 
expiring  clay;  it  cleaves  to  thee,  it  pursues  thee,  it  shall 
pierce  thee  through  thy  corselet,  it  shall  smite  thee  in  the 
meridian  of  thy  power !  Genius  wasted,  ambition  blasted, 
penitence  deferred,  a  life  of  brawls  and  a  death  of  shame,  — 
thy  destruction  the  offspring  of  thy  crime  !  To  this,  to  this, 
an  old  man's  curse  hath  doomed  thee!  AND  THOU  ART 
DOOMED  ! " 

These  words  were  rather  shrieked  than  spoken;  and 
the  flashing  eye,  the  lifted  hand,  the  dilated  form  of  the 
speaker,  the  hour,  the  solitude  of  the  ruins  around,  —  all 
conspired  to  give  to  the  fearful  execration  the  character  of 
prophecy.  The  warrior,  against  whose  undaunted  breast  a 
hundred  spears  had  shivered  in  vain,  fell  appalled  and  hum- 
bled to  the  ground.  He  seized  the  hem  of  his  fierce  denoun- 
cer's robe,  and  cried,  in  a  choked  and  hollow  voice,  "  Spare 
me  !  spare  me  ! " 

"  Spare  thee  !  "  said  the  unrelenting  crone :  "  hast  thou  ever 
spared  man  in  thy  hatred,  or  woman  in  thy  lust  ?  Ah !  grovel 
in  the  dust;  crouch,  crouch,  wild  beast  as  thou  art,  whose 
sleek  skin  and  beautiful  hues  have  taught  the  unwary  to  be 
blind  to  the  talons  that  rend,  and  the  grinders  that  devour,  — 
crouch,  that  the  foot  of  the  old  and  impotent  may  spurn 
thee ! " 

"  Hag ! "  cried  Montreal,  in  the  reaction  of  sudden  fury  and 
maddened  pride,  springing  up  to  the  full  height  of  his  stature. 


84  RIENZI : 

"Hag!  them  hast  passed  the  limits  to  which,  remembering 
who  thou  art,  my  forbearance  gave  thee  license.  I  had  well- 
nigh  forgot  that  thou  hadst  assumed  my  part,  —  I  am  the 
Accuser !  Woman,  the  boy  !  Shrink  not,  equivocate  not,  lie 
not :  thou  wert  the  thief ! " 

"  I  was.     Thou  taughtest  me  the  lesson  how  to  steal  a  —  " 

"Render,  restore  him  !  "  interrupted  Montreal,  stamping  on 
the  ground  with  such  force  that  the  splinters  of  the  marble 
fragments  on  which  he  stood  shivered  under  his  armed  heel. 

The  woman  little  heeded  a  violence  at  which  the  fiercest 
warrior  of  Italy  might  have  trembled ;  but  she  did  not  make 
an  immediate  answer.  The  character  of  her  countenance 
altered  from  passion  into  an  expression  of  grave,  intent,  and 
melancholy  thought.  At  length  she  replied  to  Montreal, 
whose  hand  had  wandered  to  his  dagger-hilt  with  the  instinct 
of  long  habit,  whenever  enraged  or  thwarted,  rather  than 
from  any  design  of  blood,  which,  stern  and  vindictive  as  he 
was,  he  would  have  been  incapable  of  forming  against  any 
woman,  much  less  against  the  one  then  before  him. 

"Walter  de  Montreal,"  said  she,  in  a  voice  so  calm  that  it 
almost  sounded  like  that  of  compassion,  "  the  boy,  I  think,  has 
never  known  brother  or  sister ;  the  only  child  of  a  once 
haughty  and  lordly  race  on  both  sides,  though  now  on  both 
dishonored,  —  nay,  why  so  impatient  ?  thou  wilt  soon  learn 
the  worst,  —  the  boy  is  dead  ! " 

"  Dead ! "  repeated  Montreal,  recoiling  and  growing  pale ; 
"  dead !  No,  no,  say  not  that !  He  has  a  mother  ;  you  know 
he  has !  —  a  fond,  meek-hearted,  anxious,  hoping  mother !  No, 
no ;  he  is  not  dead !  " 

"  Thou  canst  feel,  then,  for  a  mother  ?  "  said  the  old  woman, 
seemingly  touched  by  the  tone  of  the  Provencal.  "  Yet,  be- 
think thee:  is  it  not  better  that  the  grave  should  save  him 
from  a  life  of  riot,  of  bloodshed,  and  of  crime  ?  Better  to 
sleep  with  God  than  to  wake  with  the  fiends  ! " 

"  Dead  ?  "  echoed  Montreal ;  "  dead  ?  The  pretty  one  !  So 
young !  Those  eyes  —  the  mother's  eyes  —  closed  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Hast  thou  aught  else  to  say  ?  Thy  sight  scares  my  very 
womanhood  from  my  soul !  Let  me  be  gone." 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  85 

"  Dead !  May  I  believe  thee  ?  or  dost  thou  mock  me  ? 
Thou  hast  uttered  thy  curse,  —  hearken  to  my  warning.  If 
thou  hast  lied  in  this,  thy  last  hour  shall  dismay  thee,  and  thy 
death-bed  shall  be  the  death-bed  of  despair ! " 

"  Thy  lips,"  replied  the  female,  with  a  scornful  smile,  "  are 
better  adapted  for  lewd  vows  to  unhappy  maidens  than  for 
the  denunciations  which  sound  solemn  only  when  coming  from 
the  good.  Farewell ! " 

"  Stay,  inexorable  woman,  stay !  Where  sleeps  he  ?  Masses 
shall  be  sung ;  priests  shall  pray ;  the  sins  of  the  father  shall 
not  be  visited  on  that  young  head ! " 

"  At  Florence  ! "  returned  the  woman,  hastily.  "  But  no 
stone  records  the  departed  one  ;  the  dead  boy  had  no  name ! " 

Waiting  for  no  further  questionings,  the  woman  now 
passed  on,  pursued  her  way;  and  the  long  herbage  and  the 
winding  descent  soon  snatched  her  ill-omened  apparition  from 
the  desolate  landscape. 

Montreal,  thus  alone,  sank  with  a  deep  and  heavy  sigh  upon 
the  ground,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  burst  into 
an  agony  of  grief ;  his  chest  heaved,  his  whole  frame  trem- 
bled, and  he  wept  and  sobbed  aloud  with  all  the  fearful  vehe- 
mence of  a  man  whose  passions  are  strong  and  fierce,  but  to 
whom  the  violence  of  grief  alone  is  novel  and  unfamiliar. 

He  remained  thus  prostrate  and  unmanned  for  a  consider- 
able time,  growing  slowly  and  gradually  more  calm  as  tears 
relieved  his  emotion,  and  at  length  rather  indulging  a  gloomy 
revery  than  a  passionate  grief.  The  moon  was  high  and  the 
hour  late  when  he  arose,  and  then  few  traces  of  the  past  ex- 
citement remained  upon  his  countenance  ;  for  Walter  de  Mon- 
treal was  not  of  that  mould  in  which  woe  can  force  a  settle- 
ment, or  to  which  any  affliction  can  bring  the  continued  and 
habitual  melancholy  that  darkens  those  who  feel  more  endur- 
ingly,  though  with  emotions  less  stormy.  His  were  the  ele- 
ments of  the  true  Frank  character,  though  carried  to  excess ; 
his  sternest  and  his  deepest  qualities  were  mingled  with 
fickleness  and  caprice ;  his  profound  sagacity  often  frustrated 
by  a  whim ;  his  towering  ambition  deserted  for  some  frivolous 
temptation  ;  and  his  elastic,  sanguine,  and  high-spirited  nature 


SiJ  RIENZI: 

faithful  only  to  the  desire  of  military  glory,  to  the  poetry  of  a 
daring  and  stormy  life,  and  to  the  susceptibilities  of  that 
tender  passion  without  whose  colorings  no  portrait  of  chivalry 
is  complete,  and  in  which  he  was  capable  of  a  sentiment,  a 
tenderness,  and  a  loyal  devotion  which  could  hardly  have 
been  supposed  compatible  with  his  reckless  levity  and  his 
undisciplined  career. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  as  he  rose  slowly,  folded  his  mantle  round 
him,  and  resumed  his  way,  "  it  was  not  for  myself  I  grieved 
thus.  But  the  pang  is  past,  and  the  worst  is  known.  Now, 
then,  back  to  those  things  that  never  die,  —  restless  projects 
and  daring  schemes.  That  hag's  curse  keeps  my  blood  cold 
still,  and  this  solitude  has  something  in  it  weird  and  awful. 
Ha !  what  sudden  light  is  that  ?  " 

The  light  which  caught  Montreal's  eye  broke  forth  almost 
like  a  star,  scarcely  larger,  indeed,  but  more  red  and  intense 
in  its  ray.  Of  itself  it  was  nothing  uncommon,  and  might 
have  shone  either  from  convent  or  cottage.  But  it  streamed 
from  a  part  of  the  Aventine  which  contained  no  habitations  of 
the  living,  but  only  the  empty  ruins  and  shattered  porticos, 
of  which  even  the  names  and  memories  of  the  ancient  inhab- 
itants were  dead.  Aware  of  this,  Montreal  felt  a  slight  awe 
(as  the  beam  threw  its  steady  light  over  the  dreary  land- 
scape) ;  for  he  was  not  without  the  knightly  superstitions  of 
the  age,  and  it  was  now  the  witching  hour  consecrated  to 
ghost  and  spirit.  But  fear,  whether  of  this  world  or  the  next, 
could  not  long  daunt  the  mind  of  the  hardy  freebooter ;  and 
after  a  short  hesitation,  he  resolved  to  make  a  digression  from 
his  way,  and  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon.  Uncon- 
sciously the  martial  tread  of  the  barbarian  passed  over  the 
site  of  the  famed  or  infamous  temple  of  Isis,  which  had 
once  witnessed  those  wildest  orgies  commemorated  by  Juve- 
nal, and  came  at  last  to  a  thick  and  dark  copse,  from  an  open- 
ing in  the  centre  of  which  gleamed  the  mysterious  light. 
Penetrating  the  gloomy  foliage,  the  Knight  now  found  himself 
before  a  large  ruin,  gray  and  roofless,  from  within  which  came, 
indistinct  and  muffled,  the  sound  of  voices.  Through  a  rent 
in  the  wall  forming  a  kind  of  casement,  and  about  ten  feet 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  87 

from  the  ground,  the  light  now  broke  over  the  matted  and 
rank  soil,  embedded,  as  it  were,  in  vast  masses  of  shade,  and 
streaming  through  a  mouldering  portico  hard  at  hand.  The 
Provencal  stood,  though  he  knew  it  not,  on  the  very  place 
once  consecrated  by  the  Temple,  —  the  Portico  and  the  Library 
of  Liberty  (the  first  public  library  instituted  in  Rome).  The 
wall  of  the  ruin  was  covered  with  innumerable  creepers  and 
wild  brushwood,  and  it  required  but  little  agility  on  the  part 
of  Montreal,  by  the  help  of  these,  to  raise  himself  to  the  height 
of  the  aperture,  and,  concealed  by  the  luxuriant  foliage,  to 
gaze  within.  He  saw  a  table  lighted  with  tapers,  in  the 
centre  of  which  was  a  crucifix,  a  dagger  unsheathed,  an  open 
scroll  which  the  event  proved  to  be  of  sacred  character,  and  a 
brazen  bowl.  About  a  hundred  men,  in  cloaks  and  with 
black  vizards,  stood  motionless  around;  and  one,  taller  than 
the  rest,  without  disguise  or  mask,  whose  pale  brow  and  stern 
features  seemed  by  that  light  yet  paler  and  yet  more  stern, 
appeared  to  be  concluding  some  address  to  his  companions. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  in  the  church  of  the  Lateran  I  will  make 
the  last  appeal  to  the  people.  Supported  by  the  Vicar  of  the 
Pope,  myself  an  officer  of  the  Pontiff,  it  will  be  seen  that 
Religion  and  Liberty  —  the  heroes  and  the  martyrs  —  are 
united  in  one  cause.  After  that  time,  words  are  idle ;  action 
must  begin.  By  this  crucifix  I  pledge  my  faith,  on  this  blade 
I  devote  my  life,  to  the  regeneration  of  Rome  !  And  you 
(then  no  need  for  mask  or  mantle !),  when  the  solitary  trump 
is  heard,  when  the  solitary  horseman  is  seen,  you,  swear  to 
rally  round  the  standard  of  the  Republic,  and  resist  —  with 
heart  and  hand,  with  life  and  soul,  in  defiance  of  death  and  in 
hope  of  redemption  —  the  arms  of  the  oppressor ! " 

"  We  swear,  we  swear ! "  exclaimed  every  voice  ;  and  crowd- 
ing towards  cross  and  weapon,  the  tapers  were  obscured  by 
the  intervening  throng,  and  Montreal  could  not  perceive  the 
ceremony,  nor  hear  the  muttered  formula  of  the  oath,  but  he 
could  guess  that  the  rite  then  common  to  conspiracies  —  and 
which  required  each  conspirator  to  shed  some  drops  of  his 
own  blood,  in  token  that  life  itself  was  devoted  to  the  enter- 
prise —  had  not  been  omitted,  when,  the  group  again  receding, 


SS  RIENZI. 

the  same  figure  as  before  had  addressed  the  meeting,  holding 
on  high  the  bowl  with  both  hands,  —  while  from  the  left  arm, 
which  was  bared,  the  blood  weltered  slowly,  and  trickled,  drop 
by  drop,  upon  the  ground,  —  said,  in  a  solemn  voice  and 
upturned  eyes,  — 

"  Amidst  the  ruins  of  thy  temple,  0  Liberty,  we,  Romans, 
dedicate  to  thee  this  libation !  We,  befriended  and  inspired 
by  no  unreal  and  fabled  idols,  but  by  the  Lord  of  Hosts  and 
Him  who,  descending  to  earth,  appealed,  not  to  emperors  and 
to  princes,  but  to  the  fisherman  and  the  peasant,  giving  to 
the  lowly  and  the  poor  the  mission  of  Revelation."  Then, 
turning  suddenly  to  his  companions  as  his  features,  singularly 
varying  in  their  character  and  expression,  brightened  from 
solemn  awe  into  a  martial  and  kindling  enthusiasm,  he  cried 
aloud,  "  Death  to  the  Tyranny !  Life  to  the  Republic ! "  The 
effect  of  the  transition  was  startling.  Each  man,  as  by  an 
involuntary  and  irresistible  impulse,  laid  his  hand  upon  his 
sword  as  he  echoed  the  sentiment ;  some,  indeed,  drew  forth 
their  blades,  as  if  for  instant  action. 

"  I  have  seen  enow,  they  will  break  up  anon,"  said  Montreal 
to  himself ;  "  and  I  would  rather  face  an  army  of  thousands 
than  even  half-a-dozen  enthusiasts  so  inflamed,  and  I  thus 
detected."  And  with  this  thought  he  dropped  on  the  ground 
and  glided  away,  as,  once  again,  through  the  still  midnight 
air,  broke  upon  his  ear  the  muffled  shout  —  "  DEATH  TO  THE 
TYRANNY!  LIFE  TO  THE  REPUBLIC!" 


BOOK    II. 

THE   REVOLUTION. 

OGNI  lascivia,  ogni  male,  nulla  giustizia,  nullo  freno.  Non  c'era  piu  reme- 
dia,  ogni  persona  periva.  Allora  Cola  di  Rienzi,  etc.  —  Vita  di  Cola  di  Rienzi, 
lib.  i.  chap.  2. 

Every  kind  of  lewdness,  every  form  of  evil ;  no  justice,  no  restraint. 
Remedy  there  was  none  ;  perdition  fell  on  all.  Then  Cola  di  Rienzi,  etc.  — 
Life  of  Cola  di  Rienzi. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   KNIGHT   OF   PROVENCE,    AND    HIS    PROPOSAL. 

IT  was  nearly  noon  as  Adrian  entered  the  gates  of  the  palace 
of  Stephen  Colonna.  The  palaces  of  the  nobles  were  not  then, 
as  we  see  them  now,  receptacles  for  the  immortal  canvas  of 
Italian  and  the  imperishable  sculpture  of  Grecian  Art;  but 
still  to  this  day  are  retained  the  massive  walls  and  barred 
windows  and  spacious  courts  which  at  that  time  protected  their 
rude  retainers.  High  above  the  gates  rose  a  lofty  and  solid 
tower,  whose  height  commanded  a  wide  view  of  the  mutilated 
remains  of  Rome ;  the  gate  itself  was  adorned  and  strength- 
ened on  either  side  by  columns  of  granite,  whose  Doric  capitals 
betrayed  the  sacrilege  that  had  torn  them  from  one  of  the 
many  temples  that  had  formerly  crowded  the  sacred  Forum. 
From  the  same  spoils  came,  too,  the  vast  fragments  of  traver- 
tine which  made  the  walls  of  the  outer  court.  So  common  at 
that  day  were  these  barbarous  appropriations  of  the  most 
precious  monuments  of  art  that  the  columns  and  domes  of 
earlier  Rome  were  regarded  by  all  classes  but  as  quarries  from 
which  every  man  was  free  to  gather  the  materials,  whether  for 
his  castle  or  his  cottage,  —  a  wantonness  of  outrage  far  greater 


90  RIENZI : 

than  the  Goths',  to  whom  a  later  age  would  fain  have  attributed 
all  the  disgrace,  and  which,  more  perhaps  than  even  heavier 
offences,  excited  the  classical  indignation  of  Petrarch  and 
made  him  sympathize  with  Rienzi  in  his  hopes  of  Rome.  Still 
may  you  see  the  churches  of  that  or  even  earlier  dates,  of  the 
most  shapeless  architecture,  built  on  the  sites,  and  from  the 
marbles,  consecrating  (rather  than  consecrated  by)  the  names 
of  Venus,  of  Jupiter,  of  Minerva.  The  palace  of  the  Prince 
of  the  Orsini,  Duke  of  Gravina,  is  yet  reared  above  the  grace- 
ful arches  (still  visible)  of  the  theatre  of  Marcellus,  then  a 
fortress  of  the  Savelli. 

As  Adrian  passed  the  court  a  heavy  wagon  blocked  up  the 
way,  laden  with  huge  marbles  dug  from  the  unexhausted  mine 
of  the  Golden  House  of  Nero ;  they  were  intended  for  an  addi- 
tional tower,  by  which  Stephen  Colonna  proposed  yet  more  to 
strengthen  the  tasteless  and  barbarous  edifice  in  which  the  old 
noble  maintained  the  dignity  of  outraging  the  law. 

The  friend  of  Petrarch  and  the  pupil  of  Rienzi  sighed  deeply 
as  he  passed  this  vehicle  of  new  spoliations,  and  as  a  pillar  of 
fluted  alabaster,  rolling  carelessly  from  the  wagon,  fell  with  a 
loud  crash  upon  the  pavement.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
grouped  some  dozen  of  the  bandits  whom  the  old  Colonna 
entertained.  They  were  playing  at  dice  upon  an  ancient  tomb, 
the  clear  and  deep  inscription  on  which  (so  different  from  the 
slovenly  character  of  the  later  empire)  bespoke  it  a  memorial 
of  the  most  powerful  age  of  Rome,  and  which,  now  empty 
even  of  ashes,  and  upset,  served  for  a  table  to  these  foreign 
savages,  and  was  strewn,  even  at  that  early  hour,  with  frag- 
ments of  meat  and  flasks  of  wine.  They  scarcely  stirred,  they 
scarcely  looked  up,  as  the  young  noble  passed  them  ;  and  their 
fierce  oaths  and  loud  ejaculations,  uttered  in  a  northern  patois, 
grated  harshly  upon  his  ear  as  he  mounted,  with  a  slow  step, 
the  lofty  and  unclean  stairs.  He  came  into  a  vast  ante- 
chamber, which  was  half-filled  with  the  higher  class  of  the 
patrician's  retainers.  Some  five  or  six  pages,  chosen  from  the 
inferior  noblesse,  congregated  by  a  narrow  and  deep-sunk  case- 
ment, were  discussing  the  grave  matters  of  gallantry  and 
intrigue ;  three  petty  chieftains  of  the  band  below,  with  their 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  91 

corselets  donned  and  their  swords  and  casques  beside  them, 
were  sitting,  stolid  and  silent,  at  a  table,  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  might  have  been  taken  for  automatons,  save  for  the 
solemn  regularity  with  which  they  ever  and  anon  lifted  to 
their  mustachioed  lips  their  several  goblets,  and  then,  with  a 
complacent  grunt,  re-settled  to  their  contemplations.  Striking 
was  the  contrast  which  their  Northern  phlegm  presented  to  a 
crowd  of  Italian  clients  and  petitioners  and  parasites,  who 
walked  restlessly  to  and  fro,  talking  loudly  to  each  other  with 
all  the  vehement  gestures  and  varying  physiognomy  of  South- 
ern vivacity.  There  was  a  general  stir  and  sensation  as  Adrian 
broke  upon  this  miscellaneous  company.  The  bandit  captains 
nodded  their  heads  mechanically;  the  pages  bowed,  and  ad- 
mired the  fashion  of  his  plume  and  hose ;  the  clients  and 
petitioners  and  parasites  crowded  round  him,  each  with  a  sep- 
arate request  for  interest  with  his  potent  kinsman.  Great 
need  had  Adrian  of  his  wonted  urbanity  and  address  in  extri- 
cating himself  from  their  grasp ;  and  painfully  did  he  win,  at 
last,  the  low  and  narrow  door  at  which  stood  a  tall  servitor, 
who  admitted  or  rejected  the  applicants,  according  to  his  inter- 
est or  caprice. 

"  Is  the  Baron  alone  ?  "  asked  Adrian. 

"Why,  no,  my  lord;  a  foreign  signor  is  with  him,  — but  to 
you  he  is  of  course  visible." 

"  Well,  you  may  admit  me.     I  would  inquire  of  his  health." 

The  servitor  opened  the  door,  through  whose  aperture  peered 
many  a  jealous  and  wistful  eye,  and  consigned  Adrian  to  the 
guidance  of  a  page,  who,  older  and  of  greater  esteem  than 
the  loiterers  in  the  ante-room,  was  the  especial  henchman  of 
the  lord  of  the  castle.  Passing  another,  but  empty  chamber, 
vast  and  dreary,  Adrian  found  himself  in  a  small  cabinet  and 
in  the  presence  of  his  kinsman. 

Before  a  table  bearing  the  implements  of  writing,  sat  the  old 
Colonna.  A  robe  of  rich  furs  and  velvet  hung  loose  upon  his 
tall  and  stately  frame ;  from  a  round  skull-cap,  of  comforting 
warmth  and  crimson  hue,  a  few  gray  locks  descended  and 
mixed  with  a  long  and  reverent  beard.  The  countenance  of 
the  aged  noble,  who  had  long  passed  his  eightieth  year,  still 


02  RIENZI : 

retained  the  trices  of  a  comeliness  for  which  in  earlier  man- 
hood he  was  remarkable.  His  eyes,  if  deep-sunken,  were  still 
keen  and  lively,  and  sparkled  with  all  the  fire  of  youth ;  his 
mouth  curved  upward  in  a  pleasant  though  half-satiric  smile  ; 
and  his  appearance  on  the  whole  was  prepossessing  and  com- 
manding, indicating  rather  the  high  blood,  the  shrewd  wit,  and 
the  gallant  valor  of  the  patrician,  than  his  craft,  hypocrisy, 
and  habitual  but  disdainful  spirit  of  oppression, 

Stephen  Colonna,  without  being  absolutely  a  hero,  was 
indeed  far  braver  than  most  of  the  Romans,  though  he  held 
fast  to  the  Italian  maxim,  never  to  fight  an  enemy  while  it  is 
possible  to  cheat  him.  Two  faults,  however,  marred  the  effect 
of  his  sagacity :  a  supreme  insolence  of  disposition,  and  a  pro- 
found belief  in  the  lights  of  his  experience.  He  was  incapable 
of  analogy.  What  had  never  happened  in  his  time,  he  was 
perfectly  persuaded  never  could  happen.  Thus,  though  gener- 
ally esteemed  an  able  diplomatist,  he  had  the  cunning  of  the 
intriguant,  and  not  the  providence  of  a  statesman.  If,  how- 
ever, pride  made  him  arrogant  in  prosperity,  it  supported  him 
in  misfortune.  And  in  the  earlier  vicissitudes  of  a  life  which 
had  partly  been  consumed  in  exile,  he  had  developed  many 
noble  qualities  of  fortitude,  endurance,  and  real  greatness  of 
soul,  which  showed  that  his  failings  were  rather  acquired  by 
circumstance  than  derived  from  nature.  His  numerous  and 
high-born  race  were  proud  of  their  chief,  and  with  justice ;  for 
he  was  the  ablest  and  most  honored,  not  only  of  the  direct 
branch  of  the  Colonna,  but  also,  perhaps,  of  all  the  more 
powerful  barons. 

Seated  at  the  same  table  with  Stephen  Colonna  was  a  man 
of  noble  presence,  of  about  three  or  four  and  thirty  years  of 
age,  in  whom  Adrian  instantly  recognized  Walter  de  Montreal. 
This  celebrated  knight  was  scarcely  of  the  personal  appear- 
ance which  might  have  corresponded  with  the  terror  his  name 
generally  excited.  His  face  was  handsome,  almost  to  the 
extreme  of  womanish  delicacy.  His  fair  hair  waved  long  and 
freely  over  a  white  and  unwrinkled  forehead;  the  life  of  a 
camp  and  the  suns  of  Italy  had  but  little  embrowned  his  clear 
and  healthful  complexion,  which  retained  much  of  the  bloom 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  93 

of  youth.  His  features  were  aquiline  and  regular;  his  eyes, 
of  a  light  hazel,  were  large,  bright,  and  penetrating;  and  a 
short,  but  curled  beard  and  mustachio,  trimmed  with  soldier- 
like precision,  and  very  little  darker  than  the  hair,  gave  indeed 
a  martial  expression  to  his  comely  countenance,  but  rather  the 
expression  which  might  have  suited  the  hero  of  courts  and 
tournaments  than  the  chief  of  a  brigand's  camp.  The  aspect, 
manner,  and  bearing  of  the  Prove^al  were  those  which  capti- 
vate rather  than  awe,  blending,  as  they  did,  a  certain  military 
frankness  with  the  easy  and  graceful  dignity  of  one  conscious 
of  gentle  birth  and  accustomed  to  mix,  on  equal  terms,  with 
the  great  and  noble.  His  form  happily  contrasted  and  elevated 
the  character  of  a  countenance  which  required  strength  and 
stature  to  free  its  uncommon  beauty  from  the  charge  of  effemi- 
nacy, being  of  great  height  and  remarkable  muscular  power, 
without  the  least  approach  to  clumsy  and  unwieldy  bulk,  —  it 
erred,  indeed,  rather  to  the  side  of  leanness  than  flesh ;  at  once 
robust  and  slender.  But  the  chief  personal  distinction  of  this 
warrior,  the  most  redoubted  lance  of  Italy,  was  an  air  and 
carriage  of  chivalric  and  heroic  grace,  greatly  set  off  at  this 
time  by  his  splendid  dress,  which  was  of  brown  velvet  sown 
with  pearls,  over  which  hung  the  surcoat  worn  by  the  Knights 
of  the  Hospital,  whereon  was  wrought,  in  white,  the  eight- 
pointed  cross  that  made  the  badge  of  his  order.  The  Knight's 
attitude  was  that  of  earnest  conversation,  bending  slightly 
forward  towards  the  Colonna,  and  resting  both  his  hands  — 
which  (according  to  the  usual  distinction  of  the  old  Norman 
race,1  from  whom,  though  born  in  Provence,  Montreal  boasted 
his  descent)  were  small  and  delicate,  the  fingers  being  covered 
with  jewels,  as  was  the  fashion  of  the  day  —  upon  the  golden 
hilt  of  an  enormous  sword,  on  the  sheath  of  which  was  elabor- 
ately wrought  the  silver  lilies  that  made  the  device  of  the 
Proven9al  Brotherhood  of  Jerusalem. 

1  Small  hands  and  feet,  however  disproportioned  to  the  rest  of  the  person, 
were  at  that  time  deemed  no  less  a  distinction  of  the  well-born  than  they 
have  been  in  a  more  refined  age.  Many  readers  will  remember  the  pain 
occasioned  to  Petrarch  by  his  tight  shoes.  The  supposed  beauty  of  this  pecu- 
liarity is  more  derived  from  the  feudal  than  the  classic  time. 


I' I  KIKXZI: 

"  Good  morrow,  fair  kinsman  ! "  said  Stephen.  "  Seat  thy- 
self, I  pray ;  and  know  in  this  knightly  visitor  the  celebrated 
Sieur  de  Montreal." 

"  Ah,  my  lord,"  said  Montreal,  smiling,  as  he  saluted  Adrian  ; 
"  and  how  is  my  lady  at  home  ?  " 

"You  mistake,  Sir  Knight,"  quoth  Stephen;  "my  young 
kinsman  is  not  yet  married.  Faith,  as  Pope  Boniface  re- 
marked, when  he  lay  stretched  on  a  sick-bed,  and  his  confes- 
sor talked  to  him  about  Abraham's  bosom, '  that  is  a  pleasure 
the  greater  for  being  deferred.' " 

"  The  Signer  will  pardon  my  mistake,"  returned  Montreal. 

"  But  not,"  said  Adrian,  "  the  neglect  of  Sir  Walter  in  not 
ascertaining  the  fact  in  person.  My  thanks  to  him,  noble 
kinsman,  are  greater  than  you  weet  of ;  and  he  promised  to 
visit  me,  that  he  might  receive  them  at  leisure." 

"  I  assure  you,  Signor,"  answered  Montreal,  "  that  I  have 
not  forgotten  the  invitation ;  but  so  weighty  hitherto  have 
been  my  affairs  at  Rome  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  parley 
with  my  impatience  to  better  our  acquaintance." 

"  Oh,  ye  knew  each  other  before  ?  "  said  Stephen.  "  And 
how  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  there  is  a  damsel  in  the  case,"  replied  Montreal. 
"  Excuse  my  silence." 

"  Ah,  Adrian,  Adrian !  when  will  you  learn  my  continence  ! " 
said  Stephen,  solemnly  stroking  his  gray  beard.  "  What  an 
example  I  set  you !  But  a  truce  to  this  light  conversation ; 
let  us  resume  our  theme.  You  must  know,  Adrian,  that  it  is 
to  the  brave  band  of  my  guest  I  am  indebted  for  those  valiant 
gentlemen  below,  who  keep  Rome  so  quiet,  though  my  poor 
habitation  so  noisy.  He  has  called  to  proffer  more  assistance, 
if  need  be,  and  to  advise  me  on  the  affairs  of  Northern  Italy. 
Continue,  I  pray  thee,  Sir  Knight ;  I  have  no  disguises  from 
my  kinsman." 

"  Thou  seest,"  said  Montreal,  fixing  his  penetrating  eyes  on 
Adrian,  "thou  seest,  doubtless,  my  lord,  that  Italy  at  this 
moment  presents  to  us  a  remarkable  spectacle.  It  is  a  con- 
test between  two  opposing  powers,  which  shall  destroy  the 
other.  The  one  power  is  that  of  the  unruly  and  turbulent 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  95 

people,  —  a  power  which  they  call  '  Liberty  j '  the  other  power 
is  that  of  the  chiefs  and  princes,  —  a  power  which  they  more 
appropriately  call  'Order.'  Between  these  parties  the  cities 
of  Italy  are  divided.  In  Florence,  in  Genoa,  in  Pisa,  for  in- 
stance, is  established  a  Free  State,  —  a  Republic,  God  wot ! 
and  a  more  riotous,  unhappy  state  of  government  cannot  well 
be  imagined." 

"  That  is  perfectly  true,"  quoth  Stephen ;  "  they  banished 
my  own  first  cousin  from  Genoa." 

"A  perpetual  strife,  in  short,"  continued  Montreal,  "be- 
tween the  great  families  ;  an  alternation  of  prosecutions  and 
confiscations  and  banishments :  to-day  the  Guelfs  proscribe 
the  Ghibellines ;  to-morrow  the  Ghibellines  drive  out  the 
Guelfs.  This  may  be  liberty,  but  it  is  the  liberty  of  the 
strong  against  the  weak.  In  the  other  cities,  as  Milan,  as 
Verona,  as  Bologna,  the  people  are  under  the  rule  of  one  man, 
who  calls  himself  a  prince,  and  whom  his  enemies  call  a  tyrant. 
Having  more  force  than  any  other  citizen,  he  preserves  a  firm 
government ;  having  more  constant  demand  on  his  intellect 
and  energies  than  the  other  citizens,  he  also  preserves  a  wise 
one.  These  two  orders  of  government  are  enlisted  against 
each  other ;  whenever  the  people  in  the  one  rebel  against 
their  prince,  the  people  of  the  other  —  that  is  the  Free  States 
—  send  arms  and  money  to  their  assistance." 

"You  hear,  Adrian,  how  wicked  those  last  are,"  quoth 
Stephen. 

"  Now  it  seems  to  me,"  continued  Montreal,  "  that  this  con- 
test must  end  some  time  or  other.  All  Italy  must  become 
republican  or  monarchical.  It  is  easy  to  predict  which  will  be 
the  result." 

"  Yes,  Liberty  must  conquer  in  the  end ! "  said  Adrian, 
warmly. 

"  Pardon  me,  young  lord ;  my  opinion  is  entirely  the  re- 
verse. You  perceive  that  these  republics  are  commercial,  are 
traders ;  they  esteem  wealth,  they  despise  valor,  they  cultivate 
all  trades  save  that  of  the  armorer.  Accordingly,  how  do  they 
maintain  themselves  in  war  ?  By  their  own  citizens  ?  Not 
a  whit  of  it !  Either  they  send  to  some  foreign  chief,  and 


96  RIEXZI : 

promise,  if  he  grant  them  his  protection,  the  principality  of 
the  city  for  five  or  ten  years  in  return,  or  else  they  borrow 
from  some  hardy  adventurer,  like  myself,  as  many  troops  as 
they  can  afford  to  pay  for.  Is  it  not  so,  Lord  Adrian  ?  " 

Adrian  nodded  his  reluctant  assent. 

"  Well,  then,  it  is  the  fault  of  the  foreign  chief  if  he  do  not 
make  his  power  permanent,  —  as  has  been  already  done  in 
States  once  free  by  the  Visconti  and  the  Scala,  —  or  else  it  is 
the  fault  of  the  captain  of  the  mercenaries  if  he  do  not  con- 
vert his  brigands  into  senators,  and  himself  into  a  king.  These 
are  events  so  natural  that  one  day  or  other  they  will  occur 
throughout  all  Italy.  And  all  Italy  will  then  become  mon- 
archical. Now  it  seems  to  me  the  interest  of  all  the  powerful 
families  —  your  own  at  Rome,  as  that  of  the  Visconti  at  Milan 

—  to  expedite  this  epoch,  and  to  check,  while  you  yet  may 
with  ease,  that  rebellious  contagion  amongst  the  people  which 
is  now  rapidly  spreading,  and  which  ends  in  the  fever   of 
license  to  them,  but  in  the  corruption  of  death  to  you.     In 
these  free  States  the  nobles  are  the  first  to  suffer :  first  your 
privileges,  then  your  property,  are  swept  away.   Nay,  in  Flor- 
ence, as  ye  well  know,  my  lords,  no  noble  is  even  capable  of 
holding  the  meanest  office  in  the  State." 

"Villains!"  said  Colonna;  "they  violate  the  first  law  of 
nature ! " 

"  At  this  moment,"  resumed  Montreal,  who,  engrossed  with 
his  subject,  little  heeded  the  interruptions  he  received  from  the 
holy  indignation  of  the  Baron,  "  at  this  moment  there  are  many 

—  the  wisest,   perhaps,  in  the  free   States  —  who   desire  to 
renew  the  old  Lombard  leagues,  in  defence  of  their  common 
freedom  everywhere,  and  against  whosoever  shall  aspire  to  be 
prince.     Fortunately  the  deadly  jealousies  between  these  mer- 
chant States  —  the  base   plebeian  jealousies,  more   of  trade 
than  of  glory  —  interpose  at  present  an  irresistible  obstacle  to 
this  design ;  and  Florence,  the   most   stirring  and  the   most 
esteemed  of  all,  is  happily  so  reduced  by  reverses  of  commerce 
as  to  be  utterly  unable  to  follow  out  so  great  an  undertaking. 
Now,  then,  is  the  time  for  us,  my  lords :  while  these  obstacles 
are  so  great  for  our  foes,  now  is  the  time  for  us  to  form  and 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  97 

cement  a  counter-league  between  all  the  princes  of  Italy.  To 
you,  noble  Stephen,  I  have  come,  as  your  rank  demands,  alone 
of  all  the  barons  of  Rome,  to  propose  to  you  this  honorable 
union.  Observe  what  advantages  it  proffers  to  your  house. 
The  popes  have  abandoned  Rome  forever ;  there  is  no  counter- 
poise to  your  ambition,  —  there  need  be  none  to  your  power. 
You  see  before  you  the  examples  of  Visconti  and  Taddeo  di 
Pepoli.  You  may  found  in  Rome,  the  first  city  of  Italy,  a 
supreme  and  uncontrolled  principality,  subjugate  utterly  your 
weaker  rivals,  the  Savelli,  the  Malatesta,  the  Orsini,  and  leave 
to  your  sons'  sons  an  hereditary  kingdom  that  may  aspire  once 
more,  perhaps,  to  the  empire  of  the  world." 

Stephen  shaded  his  face  with  his  hand  as  he  answered :  "  But 
this,  noble  Montreal,  requires  means,  —  money  and  men." 

"  Of  the  last,  you  can  command  from  me  enow,  —  my  small 
company,  the  best  disciplined,  can  (whenever  I  please)  swell  to 
the  most  numerous  in  Italy ;  in  the  first,  noble  Baron,  the  rich 
house  of  Colonna  cannot  fail :  and  even  a  mortgage  on  its  vast 
estates  may  be  well  repaid  when  you  have  possessed  yourself 
of  the  whole  revenues  of  Rome.  You  see,"  continued  Mon- 
treal, turning  to  Adrian,  in  whose  youth  he  expected  a  more 
warm  ally  than  in  his  hoary  kinsman,  "you  see  at  a  glance 
how  feasible  is  this  project,  and  what  a  mighty  field  it  opens  to 
your  house." 

"  Sir  Walter  de  Montreal,"  said  Adrian,  rising  from  his  seat 
and  giving  vent  to  the  indignation  he  had  with  difficulty 
suppressed,  "  I  grieve  much  that,  beneath  the  roof  of  the  first 
citizen  of  Rome,  a  stranger  should  attempt  thus  calmly,  and 
without  interruption,  to  excite  the  ambition  of  emulating  the 
execrated  celebrity  of  a  Visconti  or  a  Pepoli.  Speak,  my  lord ! " 
turning  to  Stephen,  "  speak,  noble  kinsman !  and  tell  this 
Knight  of  Provence  that  if  by  a  Colonna  the  ancient  grandeur 
of  Rome  cannot  be  restored,  it  shall  not  be,  at  least  by  a  Co- 
lonna, that  her  last  wrecks  of  liberty  shall  be  swept  away." 

"  How  now,  Adrian !  How  now,  sweet  kinsman ! "  said 
Stephen,  thus  suddenly  appealed  to ;  "  calm  thyself,  I  pr'ythee. 
Noble  Sir  Walter,  he  is  young,  —  young  and  hasty ;  he  means 
not  to  offend  thee." 

VOL.    I.  —  7 


1'S  RIENZI: 

"Of  that  I  am  persuaded,"  returned  Montreal,  coldly,  but 
with  great  and  courteous  command  of  temper.  "  He  speaks 
from  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  —  a  praiseworthy  fault  in 
youth.  It  was  mine  at  his  age,  and  many  a  time  have  I  nearly 
lost  my  life  for  the  rashness.  Nay,  Signor,  nay ;  touch  not  your 
sword  so  meaningly,  as  if  you  fancied  I  intimated  a  threat,  — 
far  from  me  such  presumption.  I  have  learned  sufficient  cau- 
tion, believe  me,  in  the  wars,  not  wantonly  to  draw  against  me 
a  blade  which  I  have  seen  wielded  against  such  odds." 

Touched,  despite  himself,  by  the  courtesy  of  the  Knight, 
and  the  allusion  to  a  scene  in  which  perhaps  his  life  had 
been  preserved  by  Montreal,  Adrian  extended  his  hand  to  the 
latter. 

"  I  was  to  blame  for  my  haste,"  said  he,  frankly ;  "  but  know, 
by  my  very  heat,"  he  added,  more  gravely,  "that  your  project 
will  find  no  friends  among  the  Colonna.  Nay,  in  the  presence 
of  my  noble  kinsman,  I  dare  to  tell  you  that  could  even  his 
high  sanction  lend  itself  to  such  a  scheme,  the  best  hearts  of 
his  house  would  desert  him ;  and  I  myself,  his  kinsman,  would 
man  yonder  castle  against  so  unnatural  an  ambition ! " 

A  slight  and  scarce  perceptible  cloud  passed  over  Montreal's 
countenance  at  these  words ;  and  he  bit  his  lip  ere  he  replied : 

"  Yet  if  the  Orsini  be  less  scrupulous,  their  first  exertion  of 
power  would  be  heard  in  the  crashing  house  of  the  Colonna." 

"  Know  you,"  returned  Adrian,  "  that  one  of  our  mottoes  is 
this  haughty  address  to  the  Romans :  '  If  we  fall,  ye  fall  also '  ? 
And  better  that  fate  than  arise  upon  the  wrecks  of  our  native 
city." 

"  "Well,  well,  well ! "  said  Montreal,  reseating  himself,  "  I  see 
that  I  must  leave  Rome  to  herself;  the  League  must  thrive 
without  her  aid.  I  did  but  jest  touching  the  Orsini,  for  they 
have  not  the  power  that  would  make  their  efforts  safe.  Let  us 
sweep,  then,  our  past  conference  from  our  recollection.  It  is 
the  nineteenth,  I  think,  Lord  Colonna,  on  which  you  propose 
to  repair  to  Corneto  with  your  friends  and  retainers,  and  on 
which  you  have  invited  my  attendance  ?  " 

"•  It  is  on  that  day,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  the  Baron,  evidently 
much  relieved  by  the  turn  the  conversation  had  assumed.  "  The 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  99 

fact  is  that  we  have  been  so  charged  with  indifference  to  the 
interests  of  the  good  people  that  I  strain  a  point  in  this  expe- 
dition to  contradict  the  assertion ;  and  we  propose,  therefore, 
to  escort  and  protect,  against  the  robbers  of  the  road,  a  convoy 
of  corn  to  Corneto.  In  truth,  I  may  add  another  reason,  be- 
sides fear  of  the  robbers,  that  makes  me  desire  as  numerous 
a  train  as  possible.  I  wish  to  show  my  enemies  and  the  peo- 
ple generally  the  solid  and  growing  power  of  my  house ;  the 
display  of  such  an  armed  band  as  I  hope  to  levy  will  be  a 
magnificent  occasion  to  strike  awe  into  the  riotous  and  refrac- 
tory. Adrian,  you  will  collect  your  servitors,  I  trust,  on  that 
day ;  we  would  not  be  without  you." 

"And  as  we  ride  along,  fair  Signer,"  said  Montreal,  inclin- 
ing to  Adrian,  "we  will  find  at  least  one  subject  on  which  we 
can  agree ;  all  brave  men  and  true  knights  have  one  common 
topic,  and  its  name  is  Woman.  You  must  make  me  acquainted 
with  the  names  of  the  fairest  dames  of  Eome;  and  we  will 
discuss  old  adventures  in  the  Parliament  of  Love,  and  hope 
for  new.  By  the  way,  I  suppose,  Lord  Adrian,  you,  with  the 
rest  of  your  countrymen,  are  Petrarch-stricken  ?  " 

"Do  you  not  share  our  enthusiasm?  Slur  not  so  your 
gallantry,  I  pray  you." 

"  Come,  we  must  not  again  disagree ;  but,  by  my  halidame, 
I  think  one  troubadour  roundel  worth  all  that  Petrarch  ever 
wrote.  He  has  but  borrowed  from  our  knightly  poesy  to  dis- 
guise it,  like  a  carpet  coxcomb." 

"Well,"  said  Adrian,  gayly,  "for  every  line  of  the  troubadours 
that  you  quote,  I  will  cite  you  another.  I  will  forgive  you  for 
injustice  to  Petrarch  if  you  are  just  to  the  troubadours." 

"Just!"  cried  Montreal,  with  real  enthusiasm;  "I  am  of 
the  land,  nay,  the  very  blood,  of  the  troubadour!  But  we 
grow  too  light  for  your  noble  kinsman,  and  it  is  time  for  me 
to  bid  you,  for  the  present,  farewell.  My  Lord  Colonna,  peace 
be  with  you ;  farewell,  Sir  Adrian,  brother  mine  in  knighthood, 
remember  your  challenge ! " 

And  with  an  easy  and  careless  grace  the  Knight  of  St.  John 
took  his  leave.-  The  old  Baron,  making  a  dumb  sign  of  excuse 
to  Adrian,  followed  Montreal  into  the  adjoining  room. 


100  RIEXZI : 

"Sir  Knight!"  said  he,  "Sir  Knight  I"  as  he  closed  the 
door  upon  Adrian,  and  then  drew  Montreal  to  the  recess  of 
the  casement,  "  a  word  in  your  ear.  Think  not  I  slight  your 
offer,  but  these  young  men  must  be  managed ;  the  plot  is  great, 
noble,  grateful  to  my  heart,  but  it  requires  time  and  caution. 
I  have  many  of  my  house,  scrupulous  as  yon  hot-skull,  to  win 
over.  The  way  is  pleasant,  but  must  be  sounded  well  and 
carefully;  you  understand?" 

From  under  his  bent  brows  Montreal  darted  one  keen  glance 
at  Stephen,  and  then  answered,  — 

"  My  friendship  for  you  dictated  my  offer.  The  League  may 
stand  without  the  Colonna :  beware  a  time  when  the  Colonna 
cannot  stand  without  the  League.  My  lord,  look  well  around 
you.  There  are  more  freemen  —  ay,  bold  and  stirring  ones  too 
—  in  Eome  than  you  imagine.  Beware  Kienzi !  Adieu ;  we 
meet  soon  again." 

Thus  saying,  Montreal  departed,  soliloquizing  as  he  passed 
with  his  careless  step  through  the  crowded  ante-room,  — 

"  I  shall  fail  here !  These  caitiff  nobles  have  neither  the 
courage  to  be  great,  nor  the  wisdom  to  be  honest.  Let  them 
fall !  I  may  find  an  adventurer  from  the  people,  an  adventurer 
like  myself,  worth  them  all." 

No  sooner  had  Stephen  returned  to  Adrian  than  he  flung  his 
arms  affectionately  round  his  ward,  who  was  preparing  his  pride 
for  some  sharp  rebuke  for  his  petulance. 

"  Nobly  feigned,  admirable,  admirable ! "  cried  the  Baron ; 
"you  have  learned  the  true  art  of  a  statesman  at  the  Emperor's 
court.  I  always  thought  you  would ;  always  said  it.  You  saw 
the  dilemma  I  was  in,  thus  taken  by  surprise  by  that  barba- 
rian's mad  scheme,  —  afraid  to  refuse,  more  afraid  to  accept. 
You  extricated  me  with  consummate  address :  that  passion  — 
so  natural  to  your  age  —  was  a  famous  feint ;  drew  off  the  at- 
tack ;  gave  me  time  to  breathe ;  allowed  me  to  play  with  the 
savage.  But  we  must  not  offend  him,  you  know ;  all  my  re- 
tainers would  desert  me,  or  sell  me  to  the  Orsini,  or  cut  my 
throat,  if  he  but  held  up  his  finger.  Oh!  it  was  admirably 
managed,  Adrian,  admirably ! " 

"  Thank  Heaven !  "  said  Adrian,  with  some  difficulty  recover- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  101 

ing  the  breath  which  his  astonishment  had  taken  away.     "  You 
do  not  think  of  embracing  that  black  proposition  ?  " 

"  Think  of  it  ?  no,  indeed ! "  said  Stephen,  throwing  himself 
back  on  his  chair.  "Why,  do  you  not  know  my  age,  boy? 
Hard  on  my  ninetieth  year,  I  should  be  a  fool  indeed  to  throw 
myself  into  such  a  whirl  of  turbulence  and  agitation.  I  want 
to  keep  what  I  have,  not  risk  it  by  grasping  more.  Am  I  not 
the  beloved  of  the  Pope :  shall  I  hazard  his  excommunication  ? 
Am  I  not  the  most  powerful  of  the  nobles :  should  I  be  more 
if  I  were  king  ?  At  my  age,  to  talk  to  me  of  such  stuff !  —  the 
man 's  an  idiot.  Besides,"  added  the  old  man,  sinking  his  voice 
and  looking  fearfully  round,  "  if  I  were  a  king,  my  sons  might 
poison  me  for  the  succession.  They  are  good  lads,  Adrian, 
very ;  but  such  a  temptation,  —  I  would  not  throw  it  in  their 
way !  These  gray  hairs  have  experience.  Tyrants  don't  die  a 
natural  death ;  no,  no !  Plague  on  the  Knight,  say  I ;  he  has 
already  cast  me  into  a  cold  sweat." 

Adrian  gazed  on  the  working  features  of  the  old  man,  whose 
selfishness  thus  preserved  him  from  crime.  He  listened  to  his 
concluding  words,  full  of  the  dark  truth  of"  the  times  ;  and  as 
the  high  and  pure  ambition  of  Elenzi  flashed  upon  him  in  con- 
trast, he  felt  that  he  could  not  blame  its  fervor  or  wonder  at 
its  excess. 

"  And  then,  too,"  resumed  the  Baron,  speaking  more  deliber- 
ately as  he  recovered  his  self-possession,  "  this  man,  by  way 
of  a  warning,  shows  me,  at  a  glance,  his  whole  ignorance  of  the 
state.  What  think  you  ?  He  has  mingled  with  the  mob,  and 
taken  their  rank  breath  for  power ;  yes,  he  thinks  words  are 
soldiers,  and  bade  me  —  me,  Stephen  Colonna  —  beware,  —  of 
whom,  think  you  ?  No,  you  will  never  guess  !  Of  that  speech 
maker,  Rlenzi ;  my  own  old  jesting  guest !  Ha !  ha !  ha ! 
The  ignprance  of  these  barbarians  !  ha !  ha !  ha !  "  and  the  old 
man  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

"  Yet  many  of  the  nobles  fear  that  same  Eienzi,"  said  Adrian, 
gravely. 

"  Ah !  let  them,  let  them  ;  they  have  not  our  experience,  our 
knowledge  of  the  world.  Adrian.  Tut,  man,  when  did  decla- 
mation ever  overthrow  castles  and  conquer  soldiery  ?  I  like 


102  RIENZI : 

llienzi  to  harangue  the  mob  about  old  Rome  and  such  stuff ;  it 
gives  them  something  to  think  of  and  prate  about,  and  so  all 
their  fierceness  evaporates  in  words :  they  might  burn  a  house 
if  they  did  not  hear  a  speech.  But,  now  I  am  on  that  score,  I 
must  own  the  pedant  has  grown  impudent  in  his  new  office ; 
here,  here,  —  I  received  this  paper  ere  I  rose  to-day.  I  hear  a 
similar  insolence  has  been  shown  to  all  the  nobles.  Bead  it, 
will  you  ?  "  and  the  Colonna  put  a  scroll  into  his  kinsman's 
hand. 

"  I  have  received  the  like,"  said  Adrian,  glancing  at  it.  "  It 
is  a  request  of  Rienzi  to  attend  at  the  church  of  St.  John  of 
Lateran,  to  hear  explained  the  inscription  on  a  Table  just  dis- 
covered. It  bears,  he  saith,  the  most  intimate  connection  with 
the  welfare  and  state  of  Rome." 

"  Very  entertaining,  I  dare  to  say,  to  professors  and  bookmen. 
Pardon  me,  kinsman,  —  I  forgot  your  taste  for  these  things ; 
and  my  son  Gianni  too  shares  your  fantasy.  Well,  well,  it  is 
innocent  enough  I  Go ;  the  man  talks  well." 

"  Will  you  not  attend  too  ?  " 

"  I,  my  dear  boy,  I ! "  said  the  old  Colonna,  opening  his  eyes 
in  such  astonishment  that  Adrian  could  not  help  laughing  at  the 
simplicity  of  his  own  question. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   INTERVIEW,    AND    THE   DOUBT. 

As  Adrian  turned  from  the  palace  of  his  guardian  and  bent 
his  way  in  the  direction  of  the  Forum,  he  came  somewhat 
unexpectedly  upon  Raimond,  bishop  of  Orvietto,  who,  mounted 
upon  a  low  palfrey,  and  accompanied  by  some  three  or  four  of 
his  waiting-men,  halted  abruptly  when  he  recognized  the  young 
noble. 

"  Ah !  my  son,  it  is  seldom  that  I  see  thee.  How  fares  it 
with  thee  ?  Well  ?  So,  so  !  I  rejoice  to  hear  it.  Alas !  what 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  103 

a  state  of  society  is  ours,  when  compared  to  the  tranquil  pleas- 
ures of  Avignon !  There,  all  men  who,  like  us,  are  fond  of  the 
same  pursuits,  the  same  studies,  delicice  musarum,  hum !  hum  !  " 
the  Bishop  was  proud  of  an  occasional  quotation,  right  or  wrong, 
"are  brought  easily  and  naturally  together.  But  here  we 
scarcely  dare  stir  out  of  our  houses,  save  upon  great  occasions. 
But  talking  of  great  occasions  and  the  Muses,  reminds  me  of 
our  good  Kienzi's  invitation  to  the  Lateran :  of  course  you  will 
attend?  'Tis  a  mighty  knotty  piece  of  Latin  he  proposes 
to  solve,  —  so  I  hear,  at  least ;  very  interesting  to  us,  my  son, 
very ! " 

"  It  is  to-morrow,"  answered  Adrian.  "  Yes,  assuredly,  I  will 
be  there." 

"  And  harkye,  my  son,"  said  the  Bishop,  resting  his  hand 
affectionately  on  Adrian's  shoulder,  "  I  have  reason  to  hope 
that  he  will  remind  our  poor  citizens  of  the  Jubilee  for  the  year 
Fifty,  and  stir  them  towards  clearing  the  road  of  the  brigands, 
—  a  necessary  injunction,  and  one  to  be  heeded  timeously ;  for 
who  will  come  here  for  absolution  when  he  stands  a  chance  of 
rushing  unannealed  upon  purgatory  by  the  way  ?  You  have 
heard  Rienzi,  —  ay  ?  Quite  a  Cicero,  quite !  Well,  Heaven 
bless  you,  my  son !  you  will  not  fail  ?  " 

"  Nay,  not  I." 

"  Yet,  stay  ;  a  word  with  you.  Just  suggest  to  all  whom  you 
may  meet  the  advisability  of  a  full  meeting  ;  it  looks  well  for 
the  city  to  show  respect  to  letters." 

"  To  say  nothing  of  the  Jubilee,"  added  Adrian,  smiling. 

"  Ah,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Jubilee  —  very  good !  Adieu 
for  the  present ! "  And  the  Bishop,  resettling  himself  on  his 
saddle,  ambled  solemnly  on  to  visit  his  various  friends  and 
press  them  to  the  meeting. 

Meanwhile  Adrian  continued  his  course  till  he  had  passed 
the  Capitol,  the  arch  of  Severus,  the  crumbling  columns  of  the 
fane  of  Jupiter,  and  found  himself  amidst  the  long  grass,  the 
whispering  reeds,  and  the  neglected  vines  that  wave  over 
the  now-vanished  pomp  of  the  Golden  House  of  Nero.  Seating 
himself  on  a  fallen  pillar,  —  by  that  spot  where  the  traveller 
descends  to  the  (so-called)  Baths  of  Livia,  —  he  looked  iinpa- 


104  RIEXZI  : 

tiently  to  the  sun,  as  to  blame  it  for  the  slowness  of  its 
march. 

Not  long,  however,  had  he  to  wait  before  a  light  step  was 
heard  crushing  the  fragrant  grass  ;  and  presently  through  the 
arching  vines  gleamed  a  face  that  might  well  have  seemed  the 
nymph,  the  goddess  of  the  scene. 

"  My  beautiful !  my  Irene  !     How  shall  I  thank  thee  ! " 

It  was  long  before  the  delighted  lover  suffered  himself  to  ob- 
serve upon  Irene's  face  a  sadness  that  did  not  usually  cloud  it 
in  his  presence.  Her  voice,  too,  trembled ;  her  words  seemed 
constrained  and  cold. 

"  Have  I  offended  thee  ?  "  he  asked ;  "  or  what  less  misfor- 
tune hath  occurred  ?  " 

Irene  raised  her  eyes  to  her  lover's,  and  said,  looking  at  him 
earnestly,  "Tell  me,  my  lord,  in  sober  and  simple  truth,  tell 
me,  would  it  grieve  thee  much  were  this  to  be  our  last 
meeting  ?  " 

Paler  than  the  marble  at  his  feet  grew  the  dark  cheek  of 
Adrian.  It  was  some  moments  ere  he  could  reply,  and  he  did 
so  then  with  a  forced  smile  and  a  quivering  lip. 

"  Jest  not  so,  Irene  !    Last !  —  that  is  not  a  word  for  us  ! " 

"  But  hear  me,  my  lord  —  " 

"  Why  so  cold  ?  Call  me  Adrian  !  friend !  lover !  or  be 
dumb ! " 

"  Well,  then,  my  soul's  soul !  my  all  of  hope  !  my  life's  life  ! " 
exclaimed  Irene,  passionately,  "  hear  me  !  I  fear  that  we  stand 
at  this  moment  upon  some  gulf  whose  depth  I  see  not,  but 
which  may  divide  us  forever !  Thou  knowest  the  real  nature 
of  my  brother,  and  dost  not  misread  him  as  many  do.  Long 
has  he  planned  and  schemed  and  communed  with  himself,  and 
feeling  his  way  amidst  the  people,  prepared  the  path  to  some 
great  design.  But  now —  Thou  wilt  not  betray,  thou  wilt 
not  injure  him  ?  He  is  thy  friend !  " 

"  And  thy  brother !  I  would  give  my  life  for  his !  Say 
on!" 

"  But  now,  then,"  resumed  Irene,  "  the  time  for  that  enter- 
prise, whatever  it  be,  is  coming  fast.  I  know  not  of  its  exact 
nature,  but  I  know  that  it  is  against  the  nobles,  —  against  thy 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  105 

order,  against  thy  house  itself !  If  it  succeed,  oh,  Adrian ! 
thou  thyself  mayst  not  be  free  from  danger,  and  my  name,  at 
least,  will  be  coupled  with  the  name  of  thy  foes.  If  it  fail,  my 
brother,  my  bold  brother,  is  swept  away ;  he  will  fall  a  victim 
to  revenge  or  justice,  call  it  as  you  will.  Your  kinsman  may 
be  his  judge,  his  executioner ;  and  I  —  even  if  I  should  yet  live 
to  mourn  over  the  boast  and  glory  of  my  humble  line  —  could 
I  permit  myself  to  love,  to  see  one  in  whose  veins  flowed  the 
blood  of  his  destroyer  ?  Oh,  I  am  wretched,  wretched  ;  these 
thoughts  make  me  well-nigh  mad  !  "  and  wringing  her  hands 
bitterly,  Irene  sobbed  aloud. 

Adrian  himself  was  struck  forcibly  by  the  picture  thus  pre- 
sented to  him,  although  the  alternative  it  embraced  had  often 
before  forced  itself  dimly  on  his  mind.  It  was  true,  however, 
that,  not  seeing  the  schemes  of  Rienzi  backed  by  any  physical 
power,  and  never  yet  having  witnessed  the  mighty  force  of  a 
moral  revolution,  he  did  not  conceive  that  any  rise  to  which 
he  might  instigate  the  people  could  be  permanently  successful ; 
and  as  for  his  punishment,  in  that  city  where  all  justice  was 
the  slave  of  interest,  Adrian  knew  himself  powerful  enough  to 
obtain  forgiveness  even  for  the  greatest  of  all  crimes,  —  armed 
insurrection  against  the  nobles.  As  these  thoughts  recurred 
to  him,  he  gained  the  courage  to  console  and  cheer  Irene. 
But  his  efforts  were  only  partially  successful.  Awakened  by 
her  fears  to  that  consideration  of  the  future  which  hitherto 
she  had  forgotten,  Irene  for  the  first  time  seemed  deaf  to 
the  charmer's  voice. 

"  Alas ! "  said  she,  sadly,  "  even  at  the  best,  what  can  this 
love,  that  we  have  so  blindly  encouraged,  what  can  it  end  in  ? 
Thou  must  not  wed  with  one  like  me  !  And  I,  —  how  foolish 
I  have  been  ! " 

"Recall  thy  senses  then,  Irene,"  said  Adrian,  proudly, 
partly  perhaps  in  anger,  partly  in  his  experience  of  the  sex. 
"  Love  another,  and  more  wisely,  if  thou  wilt ;  cancel  thy  vows 
with  me,  and  continue  to  think  it  a  crime  to  love,  and  a  folly 
to  be  true ! " 

"  Cruel ! "  said  Irene,  falteringly,  and  in  her  turn  alarmed. 
"  Dost  thou  speak  in  earnest  ?  " 


106  RIENZI: 

"  Tell  ine,  ere  I  answer  you,  tell  me  this  :  come  death,  come 
anguish,  come  a  whole  life  of  sorrow  as  the  end  of  this  love, 
wouldst  thou  yet  repent  that  thou  hast  loved  ?  If  so,  thou 
knowest  not  the  love  that  I  feel  for  thee." 

"Never,  never  can  I  repent!"  said  Irene,  falling  upon 
Adrian's  neck  ;  "  forgive  me  ! " 

"  But  is  there,  in  truth,"  said  Adrian,  a  little  while  after 
this  lover-like  quarrel  and  reconciliation,  "  is  there,  in  truth, 
so  marked  a  difference  between  thy  brother's  past  and  his 
present  bearing  ?  How  knowest  thou  that  the  time  for  action 
is  so  near  ?  " 

"Because  now  he  sits  closeted  whole  nights  with  all  ranks 
of  men ;  he  shuts  up  his  books,  he  reads  no  more,  but  when 
alone,  walks  to  and  fro  his  chamber,  muttering  to  himself. 
Sometimes  he  pauses  before  the  calendar,  which  of  late  he 
has  fixed  with  his  own  hand  against  the  wall,  and  passes  his 
finger  over  the  letters  till  he  comes  to  some  chosen  date,  and 
then  he  plays  with  his  sword  and  smiles.  But  two  nights 
since,  arms,  too,  in  great  number  were  brought  to  the  house ; 
and  I  heard  the  chief  of  the  men  who  brought  them,  a  grim 
giant,  known  well  amongst  the  people,  say,  as  he  wiped  his 
brow :  '  These  will  see  work  soon ! ' ' 

"  Arms  !  Are  you  sure  of  that  ?  "  said  Adrian,  anxiously. 
"  Nay,  then,  there  is  more  in  these  schemes  than  I  imagined ! 
But,"  observing  Irene's  gaze  bent  fearfully  on  him  as  his  voice 
changed,  he  added  more  gayly,  "  but  come  what  may,  believe 
me,  my  beautiful !  my  adored !  that  while  I  live,  thy  brother 
shall  not  suffer  from  the  wrath  he  may  provoke ;  nor  I,  though 
he  forget  our  ancient  friendship,  cease  to  love  thee  less." 

"  Signora  !  Signora !  child  !  it  is  time ;  we  must  go !  "  said 
the  shrill  voice  of  Benedetta,  now  peering  through  the  foli- 
age. "The  working-men  pass  home  this  way;  I  see  them 
approaching." 

The  lovers  parted ;  for  the  first  time  the  serpent  had  pene- 
trated into  their  Eden,  —  they  had  conversed,  they  had 
thought  of  other  things  than  love  ! 


THE   LAST   OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  107 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  SITUATION   OF  A  POPULAR  PATRICIAN  IN  TIMES   OF   POPU- 
LAR   DISCONTENT. SCENE    OF    THE    LATERAN. 

THE  situation  of  a  Patrician  who  honestly  loves  the  people  is, 
in  those  evil  times  when  power  oppresses  and  freedom  struggles, 
when  the  two  divisions  of  men  are  wrestling  against  each 
other,  the  most  irksome  and  perplexing  that  destiny  can 
possibly  contrive.  Shall  he  take  part  with  the  nobles  ?  —  he 
betrays  his  conscience  !  With  the  people  ?  —  he  deserts  his 
friends !  But  that  consequence  of  the  last  alternative  is  not 
the  sole,  nor  perhaps  to  a  strong  mind  the  most  severe.  All 
men  are  swayed  and  chained  by  public  opinion,  —  it  is  the 
public  judge ;  but  public  opinion  is  not  the  same  for  all  ranks. 
The  public  opinion  that  excites  or  deters  the  plebeian  is  the 
opinion  of  the  plebeians,  of  those  whom  he  sees  and  meets  and 
knows;  of  those  with  whom  he  is  brought  in  contact,  those 
with  whom  he  has  mixed  from  childhood,  those  whose  praises 
are  daily  heard,  whose  censure  frowns  upon  him  with  every 
hour.1  So,  also,  the  public  opinion  of  the  great  is  the  opinion 
of  their  equals,  of  those  whom  birth  and  accident  cast  forever 
in  their  way.  This  distinction  is  full  of  important  practical 
deductions;  it  is  one  which,  more  than  most  maxims,  should 
never  be  forgotten  by  a  politician  who  desires  to  be  profound. 
It  is,  then,  an  ordeal  terrible  to  pass,  which  few  plebeians  ever 

1  It  is  the  same  in  still  smaller  divisions.  The  public  opinion  for  lawyers 
is  that  of  lawyers ;  of  soldiers,  that  of  the  army ;  of  scholars,  it  is  that  of  men 
of  literature  and  science.  And  to  the  susceptible  among  the  latter,  the  hostile 
criticism  of  learning  has  been  more  stinging  than  the  severest  moral  censures 
of  the  vulgar.  Many  a  man  has  done  a  great  act  or  composed  a  great  work 
solely  to  please  the  two  or  three  persons  constantly  present  to  him.  Their 
voice  was  his  public  opinion.  The  public  opinion  that  operated  on  Bishop, 
the  murderer,  was  the  opinion  of  the  Burkers,  his  comrades.  Did  that  con- 
demn him  ?  No !  He  knew  no  other  public  opinion  till  he  came  to  be 
hanged,  and  caught  the  loathing  eyes  and  heard  the  hissing  execrations  of 
the  crowd  below  his  gibbet. 


10S  RIENZI: 

pass,  which  it  is  therefore  unjust  to  expect  patricians  to  cross 
unfalteringly,  —  the  ordeal  of  opposing  the  public  opinion 
which  exists  for  them.  They  cannot  help  doubting  their  own 
judgment ;  they  cannot  help  thinking  the  voice  of  wisdom  or 
of  virtue  speaks  in  those  sounds  which  have  been  deemed 
oracles  from  their  cradle.  In  the  tribunal  of  Sectarian  Pre- 
judice they  imagine  they  recognize  the  Court  of  Universal 
Conscience.  Another  powerful  antidote  to  the  activity  of  a 
patrician  so  placed  is  in  the  certainty  that  to  the  last  the 
motives  of  such  activity  will  be  alike  misconstrued  by  the 
aristocracy  he  deserts  and  the  people  he  joins.  It  seems  so 
unnatural  in  a  man  to  fly  in  the  face  of  his  own  order  that  the 
world  is  willing  to  suppose  any  clew  to  the  mystery  save  that  of 
honest  conviction  or  lofty  patriotism.  "  Ambition ! "  says  one. 
"  Disappointment ! "  cries  another.  "  Some  private  grudge ! " 
hints  a  third.  "  Mob-courting  vanity ! "  sneers  a  fourth.  The 
people  admire  at  first,  but  suspect  afterwards.  The  moment  he 
thwarts  a  popular  wish,  there  is  no  redemption  for  him ;  he  is 
accused  of  having  acted  the  hypocrite,  of  having  worn  the 
sheep's  fleece ;  and  now,  say  they,  "  See !  the  wolf's  teeth  peep 
out ! "  Is  he  familiar  with  the  people  ?  —  it  is  cajolery !  Is  he 
distant  ?  —  it  is  pride  !  What,  then,  sustains  a  man  in  such  a 
situation,  following  his  own  conscience,  with  his  eyes  opened 
to  all  the  perils  of  the  path  ?  Away  with  the  cant  of  public 
opinion,  away  with  the  poor  delusion  of  posthumous  justice ; 
he  will  offend  the  first,  he  will  never  obtain  the  last.  What 
sustains  him  ?  His  owx  SOUL  !  A  man  thoroughly  great  has 
a  certain  contempt  for  his  kind  while  he  aids  them  ;  their  weal 
or  woe  are  all ;  their  applause,  their  blame,  are  nothing  to  him. 
He  walks  forth  from  the  circle  of  birth  and  habit ;  he  is  deaf  to 
the  little  motives  of  little  men.  High,  through  the  widest 
space  his  orbit  may  describe,  he  holds  on  his  course  to  guide 
or  to  enlighten ;  but  the  noises  below  reach  him  not !  Until 
the  wheel  is  broken,  until  the  dark  void  swallow  up  the  star, 
it  makes  melody,  night  and  day,  to  its  own  ear ;  thirsting  for 
no  sound  from  the  earth  it  illumines,  anxious  for  no  companion- 
ship in  the  path  through  which  it  rolls,  conscious  of  its  own 
glory,  and  contented,  therefore,  to  be  alone! 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  109 

But  minds  of  this  order  are  rare ;  all  ages  cannot  produce 
them.  They  are  exceptions  to  the  ordinary  and  human  virtue 
which  is  influenced  and  regulated  by  external  circumstance. 
At  a  time  when  even  to  be  merely  susceptible  to  the  voice  of 
fame  was  a  great  pre-eminence  in  moral  energies  over  the  rest 
of  mankind,  it  would  be  impossible  that  any  one  should  ever 
have  formed  the  conception  of  that  more  refined  and  metaphy- 
sical sentiment,  that  purer  excitement  to  high  deeds,  that  glory 
in  one's  own  heart,  which  is  so  immeasurably  above  the  desire 
of  a  renown  that  lackeys  the  heels  of  others.  In  fact,  before  we 
can  dispense  with  the  world  we  must,  by  a  long  and  severe 
novitiate,  by  the  probation  of  much  thought  and  much  sorrow, 
by  deep  and  sad  conviction  of  the  vanity  of  all  that  the  world 
can  give  us,  have  raised  ourselves,  not  in  the  fervor  of  an  hour, 
but  habitually,  above  the  world,  —  an  abstraction,  an  idealism, 
which  in  our  wiser  age  how  few  even  of  the  wisest  can  attain ! 
Yet  till  we  are  thus  fortunate,  we  know  not  the  true  divinity 
of  contemplation,  nor  the  all-sufficing  mightiness  of  conscience ; 
nor  can  we  retreat  with  solemn  footsteps  into  that  Holy  of 
Holies  in  our  own  souls  wherein  we  know  and  feel  how  much 
our  nature  is  capable  of  the  self-existence  of  a  God ! 

But  to  return  to  the  things  and  thoughts  of  earth.  Those  con-x 
siderations  and  those  links  of  circumstance  which  in  a  similar 
situation  have  changed  so  many  honest  and  courageous  minds, 
changed  also  the  mind  of  Adrian.  He  felt  in  a  false  position. 
His  reason  and  conscience  shared  in  the  schemes  of  Eienzi, 
and  his  natural  hardihood  and  love  of  enterprise  would  have 
led  him  actively  to  share  the  danger  of  their  execution.  But 
this,  all  his  associations,  his  friendships,  his  private  and 
household  ties,  loudly  forbade.  Against  his  order,  against  his 
house,  against  the  companions  of  his  youth,  how  could  he  plot 
secretly  or  act  sternly  ?  By  the  goal  to  which  he  was  impelled 
by  patriotism,  stood  hypocrisy  and  ingratitude.  Who  would 
believe  him  the  honest  champion  of  his  country  who  was  a 
traitor  to  his  friends  ?  Thus  indeed 

"  The  native  hue  of  resolution 
Was  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought," 

and  he  who  should  have  been  by  nature  a  leader  of  the  time 


110  RIENZI: 

became  only  its  spectator.  Yet  Adrian  endeavored  to  console 
himself  for  his  present  passiveness  in  a  conviction  of  the 
policy  of  his  conduct.  He  who  takes  no  share  in  the  com- 
mencement of  civil  revolutions  can  often  become,  with  the 
most  effect,  a  mediator  between  the  passions  and  the  parties 
subsequently  formed.  Perhaps,  under  Adrian's  circumstances, 
delay  was  really  the  part  of  a  prudent  statesman;  the  very 
position  which  cripples  at  the  first,  often  gives  authority  before 
the  end.  Clear  from  the  excesses,  and  saved  from  the  jeal- 
ousies, of  rival  factions,  all  men  are  willing  to  look  with  com- 
plaisance and  respect  to  a  new  actor  in  a  turbulent  drama  ;  his 
moderation  may  make  him  trusted  by  the  people,  his  rank 
enable  him  to  be  a  fitting  mediator  with  the  nobles ;  and  thus 
the  qualities  that  would  have  rendered  him  a  martyr  at  one 
period  of  the  revolution,  raise  him  perhaps  into  a  savior  at 
another. 

Silent,  therefore,  and  passive,  Adrian  waited  the  progress  of 
events.  If  the  projects  of  Bienzi  failed,  he  might  by  that 
inactivity  the  better  preserve  the  people  from  new  chains,  and 
their  champion  from  death.  If  those  projects  succeeded,  he 
might  equally  save  his  house  from  the  popular  wrath,  and 
advocating  liberty,  check  disorder.  Such,  at  least,  were  his 
hopes ;  and  thus  did  the  Italian  sagacity  and  caution  of  his 
character  control  and  pacify  the  enthusiasm  of  youth  and 
courage. 

The  sun  shone,  calm  and  cloudless,  upon  the  vast  concourse 
gathered  before  the  broad  space  that  surrounds  the  church  of 
St.  John  of  Lateran.  Partly  by  curiosity,  partly  by  the  desire 
of  the  Bishop  of  Orvietto,  partly  because  it  was  an  occasion  in 
which  they  could  display  the  pomp  of  their  retinues,  many  of 
the  principal  Barons  of  Rome  had  gathered  to  this  spot. 

On  one  of  the  steps  ascending  to  the  church,  with  his  mantle 
folded  round  him,  stood  Walter  de  Montreal,  gazing  on  the 
various  parties  that,  one  after  another,  swept  through  the  lane 
which  the  soldiers  of  the  Church  preserved  unimpeded,  in  the 
middle  of  the  crowd,  for  the  access  of  the  principal  nobles. 
He  watched  with  interest,  though  with  his  usual  carelessness 
of  air  and  roving  glance,  the  different  marks  and  looks  of 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  Ill 

welcome  given  by  the  populace  to  the  different  personages  of 
note.  Banners  and  pennons  preceded  each  Signor,  and  as  they 
waved  aloft,  the  witticisms  or  nicknames,  the  brief  words  of 
praise  or  censure,  that  imply  so  much,  which  passed  to  and 
fro  among  that  lively  crowd,  were  treasured  carefully  in  his 
recollection. 

"  Make  way  there  ;  way  for  my  Lord  Martino  Orsini,  Baron 
di  Porto ! " 

"  Peace,  minion ;  draw  back !  Way  for  the  Signor  Adrian 
Colonna,  Baron  di  Castello  and  Knight  of  the  Empire." 

And  at  those  two  rival  shouts  you  saw  waving  on  high  the 
golden  bear  of  the  Orsini,  with  the  motto,  "Beware  my  em- 
brace ! "  and  the  solitary  column,  on  an  azure  ground,  of  the 
Colonna,  with  Adrian's  especial  device,  "  Sad,  but  strong."  The 
train  of  Martino  Orsini  was  much  more  numerous  than  that  of 
Adrian,  which  last  consisted  but  of  ten  servitors.  But  Adrian's 
men  attracted  far  greater  admiration  amongst  the  crowd,  and 
pleased  more  the  experienced  eye  of  the  warlike  Knight  of 
St.  John.  Their  arms  were  polished  like  mirrors ;  their  height 
was  to  an  inch  the  same ;  their  march  was  regular  and  sedate ; 
their  mien  erect;  they  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  left; 
they  betrayed  that  ineffable  discipline,  that  harmony  of  order, 
which  Adrian  had  learned  to  impart  to  his  men  during  his  own 
apprenticeship  of  arms.  But  the  disorderly  train  of  the  Lord 
of  Porto  was  composed  of  men  of  all  heights.  Their  arms  were 
ill-polished  and  ill-fashioned,  and  they  pressed  confusedly  on 
each  other ;  they  laughed  and  spoke  aloud,  and  in  their  mien 
and  bearing  expressed  all  the  insolence  of  men  who  despised 
alike  the  master  they  served  and  the  people  they  awed.  The 
two  bands  coming  unexpectedly  on  each  other  through  this 
narrow  defile,  the  jealousy  of  the  two  houses  presently  declared 
itself.  Each  pressed  forward  for  the  precedence ;  and  as  the 
quiet  regularity  of  Adrian's  train,  and  even  its  compact  paucity 
of  numbers,  enabled  it  to  pass  before  the  servitors  of  his  rival, 
the  populace  set  up  a  loud  shout :  "  A  Colonna  forever ! "  "  Let 
the  Bear  dance  after  the  Column ! " 

"  On,  ye  knaves  ! "  said  Orsini  aloud  to  his  men.    "  How  have 


112  RIENZI : 

ye  suffered  this  affront  ?  "  And  passing  himself  to  the  head  of 
his  men,  he  would  have  advanced  through  the  midst  of  his 
rival's  train,  had  not  a  tall  guard,  in  the  Pope's  livery,  placed 
his  baton  in  the  way. 

"Pardon,  my  lord!  We  have  the  Vicar's  express  com- 
mands to  suffer  no  struggling  of  the  different  trains  one  with 
another." 

"  Knave  i  dost  thou  bandy  words  with  me  ?  "  said  the  fierce 
Orsini ;  and  with  his  sword  he  clove  the  baton  in  two. 

"  In  the  Vicar's  name,  I  command  you  to  fall  back ! "  said 
the  sturdy  guard,  now  placing  his  huge  bulk  in  the  very  front 
of  the  noble's  path. 

"  It  is  Cecco  del  Vecchio ! ''  cried  those  of  the  populace  who 
were  near  enough  to  perceive  the  interruption  and  its  cause. 

"  Ay ! "  said  one,  "  the  good  Vicar  has  put  many  of  the  stout- 
est fellows  in  the  Pope's  livery,  in  order  the  better  to  keep 
peace.  He  could  have  chosen  none  better  than  Cecco." 

"  But  he  must  not  fall ! "  cried  another,  as  Orsini,  glaring  on 
the  smith,  drew  back  his  sword  as  if  to  plunge  it  through  his 
bosom. 

"  Shaine,  shame  !  Shall  the  Pope  be  thus  insulted  in  his  own 
city  ?  "  cried  several  voices.  "  Down  with  the  sacrilegious ; 
down  ! "  And  as  if  by  a  preconcerted  plan,  a  whole  body  of 
the  mob  broke  at  once  through  the  lane,  and  swept  like  a  tor- 
rent over  Orsini  and  his  jostled  and  ill-assorted  train.  Orsini 
himself  was  thrown  on  the  ground  with  violence,  and  trampled 
upon  by  a  hundred  footsteps ;  his  men,  huddled  and  struggling 
as  much  against  themselves  as  against  the  mob,  were  scattered 
and  overset ;  and  when,  by  a  great  effort  of  the  guards,  headed 
by  the  smith  himself,  order  was  again  restored  and  the  line  re- 
formed, Orsini,  well  nigh  choked  with  his  rage  and  humiliation, 
and  greatly  bruised  by  the  rude  assaults  he  had  received,  could 
scarcely  stir  from  the  ground.  The  officers  of  the  Pope  raised 
him,  and  when  he  was  on  his  legs  he  looked  wildly  around  for 
his  sword,  which,  falling  from  his  hand,  had  been  kicked 
amongst  the  crowd;  and  seeing  it  not,  he  said,  between  his 
ground  teeth,  to  Cecco  del  Vecchio,  — 

"Fellow,  thy  neck  shall  answer  this  outrage,  or  may  God 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  113 

desert  me ! "  and  passed  along  through  the  space,  while  a  half- 
suppressed  and  exultant  hoot  from  the  bystanders  followed  his 
path. 

"Way  there,"  cried  the  smith,  "for  the  Lord  Martino  di 
Porto !  and  may  all  the  people  know  that  he  has  threatened  to 
take  my  life  for  the  discharge  of  my  duty  in  obedience  to  the 
Pope's  Vicar ! " 

"  He  dare  not ! "  shouted  out  a  thousand  voices ;  "  the  people 
can  protect  their  own ! " 

This  scene  had  not  been  lost  on  the  Prove^al,  who  well 
knew  how  to  construe  the  wind  by  the  direction  of  straws,  and 
saw  at  once,  by  the  boldness  of  the  populace,  that  they  them- 
selves were  conscious  of  a  coming  tempest.  "  Par  Dieu"  said 
he,  as  he  saluted  Adrian,  who,  gravely  and  without  looking  be- 
hind, had  now  won  the  steps  of  the  church,  "yon  tall  fellow 
has  a  brave  heart,  and  many  friends  too.  What  think  you  ?  " 
he  added,  in  a  low  whisper :  "  is  not  this  scene  a  proof  that  the 
nobles  are  less  safe  than  they  wot  of  ?  " 

"The  beast  begins  to  kick  against  the  spur,  Sir  Knight," 
answered  Adrian ;  "  a  wise  horseman  should,  in  such  a  case, 
take  care  how  he  pull  the  rein  too  tight,  lest  the  beast  should 
rear,  and  he  be  overthrown, — yet  that  is  the  policy  thou 
woulclst  recommend." 

"  You  mistake,"  returned  Montreal ;  "  my  wish  was  to  give 
Rome  one  sovereign  instead  of  many  tyrants.  But  hark ! 
what  means  that  bell  ?  " 

"  The  ceremony  is  about  to  begin,"  answered  Adrian.  "  Shall 
we  enter  the  church  together  ?  " 

Seldom  had  a  temple  consecrated  to  God  witnessed  so  singular 
a  spectacle  as  that  which  now  animated  the  solemn  space  of 
the  Lateran. 

In  the  centre  of  the  church  seats  were  raised  in  an  amphi- 
theatre, at  the  far  end  of  which  was  a  scaffolding  a  little  higher 
than  the  rest ;  below  this  spot,  but  high  enough  to  be  in  sight 
of  all  the  concourse,  was  placed  a  vast  table  of  iron,  on  which 
was  graven  an  ancient  inscription,  and  bearing  in  its  centre  a 
clear  anr  prominent  device,  presently  to  be  explained. 

The  seats  were  covered  with  cloth  and  rich  tapestry.    In  the 

VOL.    I.  —  8 


114  RIENZI: 

rear  of  the  church  was  drawn  a  purple  curtain.  Around  the 
amphitheatre  were  the  officers  of  the  Church,  in  the  party- 
colored  liveries  of  the  Pope.  To  the  right  of  the  scaffold  sat 
Raimond,  liishop  of  Orvietto,  in  his  robes  of  state.  On  the 
Ix-iK-hes  round  him  you  saw  all  the  marked  personages  of 
Rome,  —  the  judges,  the  men  of  letters,  the  nobles,  from  the 
lofty  rank  of  the  Savelli  to  the  inferior  grade  of  a  Raselli.  The 
space  beyond  the  amphitheatre  was  filled  with  the  people,  who 
now  poured  fast  in,  stream  after  stream ;  all  the  while  rang, 
clear  and  loud,  the  great  bell  of  the  church. 

At  length,  as  Adrian  and  Montreal  seated  themselves  at  a 
little  distance  from  Raimond,  the  bell  suddenly  ceased,  the 
murmurs  of  the  people  were  stilled,  the  purple  curtain  was 
withdrawn,  and  Rienzi  came  forth  with  slow  and  majestic 
steps.  He  came,  but  not  in  his  usual  sombre  and  plain  attire. 
Over  his  broad  breast  he  wore  a  vest  of  dazzling  whiteness ;  a 
long  robe,  in  the  ample  fashion  of  the  toga,  descended  to  his 
feet  and  swept  the  floor.  On  his  head  he  wore  a  fold  of  white 
cloth,  in  the  centre  of  which  shone  a  golden  crown.  But  thr 
crown  was  divided,  or  cloven,  as  it  were,  by  the  mystic  orna 
ment  of  a  silver  sword,  which,  attracting  the  universal  atten 
tion,  testified  at  once  that  this  strange  garb  was  worn,  not  from 
the  vanity  of  display,  but  for  the  sake  of  presenting  to  the 
concourse,  in  the  person  of  the  citizen,  a  type  and  emblem  of 
that  state  of  the  city  on  which  he  was  about  to  descant. 

"  Faith,"  whispered  one  of  the  old  nobles  to  his  neighbor, 
"the  plebeian  assumes  it  bravely." 

"  It  will  be  rare  sport,"  said  a  second.  "  I  trust  the  good 
man  will  put  some  jests  in  his  discourse." 

"  What  showman's  tricks  are  these  ?  "  said  a  third. 

"  He  is  certainly  crazed ! "  said  a  fourth. 

"  How  handsome  he  is ! "  said  the  women  mixed  with  the 
populace. 

"This  is  a  man  who  has  learned  the  people  by  heart," 
observed  Montreal  to  Adrian.  "  He  knows  he  must  speak  to 
the  eye,  in  order  to  win  the  mind !  A  knave,  a  wise  knave ! " 

And  now  Rienzi  had  ascended  the  scaffold ;  and  as  he  looked 
long  and  steadfastly  around  the  meeting,  the  high  and  thought- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  115 

ful  repose  of  his  majestic  countenance,  its  deep  and  solemn 
gravity,  hushed  all  the  murmurs,  and  made  its  effect  equally 
felt  by  the  sneering  nobles  as  the  impatient  populace. 

"  Signers  of  Rome,"  said  he  at  length,  "  and  ye,  friends  and 
citizens,  you  have  heard  why  we  are  met  together  this  day ;  and 
you,  my  Lord  Bishop  of  Orvietto,  and  ye,  fellow-laborers  with 
me  in  the  field  of  letters,  ye  too  are  aware  that  it  is  upon  some 
matter  relative  to  that  ancient  Rome,  the  rise  and  the  decline 
of  whose  past  power  and  glories  we  have  spent  our  youth  in 
endeavoring  to  comprehend.  But  this,  believe  me,  is  no  vain 
enigma  of  erudition,  useful  but  to  the  studious,  referring  but 
to  the  dead.  Let  the  past  perish ;  let  darkness  shroud  it ;  let 
it  sleep  forever  over  the  crumbling  temples  and  desolate  tombs 
of  its  forgotten  sons,  —  if  it  cannot  afford  us,  from  its  disburied 
secrets,  a  guide  for  the  Present  and  the  Future.  What,  my 
lords,  ye  have  thought  that  it  was  for  the  sake  of  antiquity 
alone  that  we  have  wasted  our  nights  and  days  in  studying 
what  antiquity  can  teach  us  ?  You  are  mistaken ;  it  is  nothing 
to  know  what  we  have  been,  unless  it  is  with  the  desire  of 
knowing  that  which  we  ought  to  be.  Our  ancestors  are  mere 
dust  and  ashes,  save  when  they  speak  to  our  posterity ;  and 
then  their  voices  resound,  not  from  the  earth  below,  but  the 
heaven  above.  There  is  an  eloquence  in  Memory,  because  it  is 
the  nurse  of  Hope.  There  is  a  sanctity  in  the  past,  but  only 
because  of  the  chronicles  it  retains,  —  chronicles  of  the  progress 
of  mankind ;  stepping-stone  in  civilization,  in  liberty,  and  in 
knowledge.  Our  fathers  forbid  us  to  recede;  they  teach  iis 
what  is  our  rightful  heritage ;  they  bid  us  reclaim,  they  bid  us 
augment,  that  heritage,  —  preserve  their  virtues,  and  avoid 
their  errors.  These  are  the  true  uses  of  the  Past.  Like  the 
sacred  edifice  in  which  we  are,  it  is  a  tomb  upon  which  to  rear 
a  temple.  I  see  that  you  marvel  at  this  long  beginning ;  ye 
look  to  each  other,  ye  ask  to  what  it  tends.  Behold  this  broad 
plate  of  iron :  upon  it  is  graven  an  inscription  but  lately  dis- 
interred from  the  heaps  of  stone  and  ruin  which  —  oh,  shame 
to  Rome  !  —  were  once  the  palaces  of  empire  and  the  arches 
of  triumphant  power.  The  device  in  the  centre  of  the  table 
which  you  behold  conveys  the  act  of  the  Roman  Senators,  who 


116  RIENZI : 

are  conferring  upon  Vespasian  the  imperial  authority.  It  is 
this  inscription  which  I  have  invited  you  to  hear  read!  It 
specifies  the  very  terms  and  limits  of  the  authority  thus  con- 
fer red.  To  the  Emperor  was  confided  the  power  of  making 
laws  and  alliances  with  whatsoever  nation,  of  increasing  or  of 
diminishing  the  limits  of  towns  and  districts,  of  —  mark  this, 
my  lords !  —  exalting  men  to  the  rank  of  dukes  and  kings,  — 
ay,  and  of  deposing  and  degrading  them,  —  of  making  cities 
and  of  unmaking ;  in  short,  of  all  the  attributes  of  imperial 
power.  Yes,  to  that  Emperor  was  confided  this  vast  authority. 
But  by  whom  ?  Heed,  listen,  I  pray  you ;  let  not  a  word  be 
lost :  by  whom,  I  say  ?  By  the  Roman  Senate !  What  was  the 
Roman  Senate  ?  The  Representative  of  the  Roman  People  ! " 

"  I  knew  he  would  come  to  that ! "  said  the  smith,  who  stood 
at  the  door  with  his  fellows,  but  to  whose  ear,  clear  and 
distinct,  rolled  the  silver  voice  of  Rienzi. 

"  Brave  fellow !   and  this,  too,  in  the  hearing  of  the  lords  !  " 

"  Ay,  you  see  what  the  people  were,  and  we  should  never 
have  known  this  but  for  him." 

"  Peace,  fellows ! "  said  the  officer  to  those  of  the  crowd 
from  whom  came  those  whispered  sentences. 

Rienzi  continued  :  "  Yes,  it  is  the  people  who  intrusted  this 
power ;  to  the  people,  therefore,  it  belongs !  Did  the  haughty 
Emperor  arrogate  the  crown  ?  Could  he  assume  the  authority 
of  himself  ?  Was  it  born  with  him  ?  Did  he  derive  it,  my 
Lord  Barons,  from  the  possession  of  towered  castles,  of  lofty 
lineage  ?  No !  all-powerful  as  he  was,  he  had  no  right  to  one 
atom  of  that  power,  save  from  the  voice  and  trust  of  the 
Roman  people.  Such,  0  my  countrymen  !  such  was  even  at 
that  day,  when  Liberty  was  but  the  shadow  of  her  former  self, 
—  such  was  the  acknowledged  prerogative  of  your  fathers ! 
All  power  was  the  gift  of  the  people.  What  have  ye  to  give 
now  ?  Who,  who,  I  say,  —  what  single  person,  what  petty 
chief,  —  asks  you  for  the  authority  he  assumes  ?  His  senate 
is  his  sword ;  his  chart  of  license  is  written,  not  with  ink,  but 
blood.  The  people  —  there  is  no  people  !  Oh  !  would  to  God 
that  we  might  disentomb  the  spirit  of  the  Past  as  easily  as  her 
records ! " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  117 

"  If  I  were  your  kinsman,"  whispered  Montreal  to  Adrian, 
"I  would  give  this  man  short  breathing-time  between  his 
peroration  and  confession." 

"  What  is  your  Emperor  ?  "  continued  Rienzi,  —  "a  stranger. 
What  the  great  head  of  your  Church?  —  an  exile!  Ye  are 
without  your  lawful  chiefs;  and  why?  Because  ye  are  not 
without  your  law-defying  tyrants !  The  license  of  your  nobles, 
their  discords,  their  dissensions,  have  driven  our  Holy  Father 
from  the  heritage  of  Saint  Peter ;  they  have  bathed  your 
streets  in  your  own  blood;  they  have  wasted  the  wealth  of 
your  labors  on  private  quarrels  and  the  maintenance  of  hire- 
ling ruffians !  Your  forces  are  exhausted  against  yourselves. 
You  have  made  a  mockery  of  your  country,  once  the  mistress 
of  the  world.  You  have  steeped  her  lips  in  gall ;  ye  have  set 
a  crown  of  thorns  upon  her  head !  What,  my  lords ! "  cried 
he,  turning  sharply  round  towards  the  Savelli  and  Orsini,  who, 
endeavoring  to  shake  off  the  thrill  which  the  fiery  eloquence 
of  Kienzi  had  stricken  to  their  hearts,  now,  by  contemptuous 
gestures  and  scornful  smiles,  testified  the  displeasure  they  did 
not  dare  loudly  to  utter  in  the  presence  of  the  Vicar  and  the 
people,  —  "  what !  even  while  I  speak  —  not  the  sanctity  of  this 
place  restrains  you !  I  am  an  humble  man,  a  citizen  of  Home ; 
but  I  have  this  distinction :  I  have  raised  against  myself  many 
foes  and  scoffers  for  that  which  I  have  done  for  Home.  I  am 
hated  because  I  love  my  country;  I  am  despised  because  I 
would  exalt  her.  I  retaliate,  I  shall  be  avenged.  Three 
traitors  in  your  own  palaces  shall  betray  you ;  their  names  are 
Luxury,  Envy,  and  Dissension ! " 

"  There  he  had  them  on  the  hip !  " 

"  Ha,  ha !  by  the  Holy  Cross,  that  was  good  ! " 

"  I  would  go  to  the  hangman  for  such  another  keen  stroke 
as  that ! " 

"  It  is  a  shame  if  we  are  cowards,  when  one  man  is  thus 
brave,"  said  the  smith. 

"  This  is  the  man  we  have  always  wanted ! " 

"  Silence  ! "  proclaimed  the  officer. 

"  0  Romans ! "  resumed  Rlenzi,  passionately,  "  awake,  I  con- 
jure you  !  Let  this  memorial  of  your  former  power,  your  an- 


113  RIEXZI : 

cient  liberties,  sink  deep  into  your  souls.  In  a  propitious  hour 
it  \,  Mta  it,  in  an  evil  one  if  ye  suffer  the  golden  opportunity 
to  escape,  has  this  record  of  the  past  been  unfolded  to  your 
vollect  that  the  Jubilee  approaches." 

The  Bishop  of  Orvietto  smiled,  and  bowed  approvingly ;  the 
people,  the  citizens,  the  inferior  nobles,  noted  well  those  signs 
of  encouragement ;  and  to  their  minds  the  Pope  himself,  in  the 
person  of  his  Vicar,  looked  benignly  on  the  daring  of  Rienzi. 

••  The  Jubilee  approaches  ;  the  eyes  of  all  Christendom  will 
be  directed  hither.  Here,  where  from  all  quarters  of  the 
globe  men  come  for  peace,  shall  they  find  discord  ?  Seeking 
absolution  shall  they  perceive  but  crime  ?  In  the  centre  of 
God's  dominion  shall  they  weep  at  your  weakness  ?  In  the 
seat  of  the  martyred  saints  shall  they  shudder  at  your  vices  ? 
In  the  fountain  and  source  of  Christ's  law  shall  they  find  all 
law  unknown  ?  You  were  the  glory  of  the  world :  will  you  be 
its  by-word  ?  You  were  its  example :  will  you  be  its  warning  ? 
Rise  while  it  is  yet  time ;  clear  your  roads  from  the  bandits 
that  infest  them,  your  walls  from  the  hirelings  that  they  har- 
bor! Banish  these  civil  discords,  or  the  men  —  how  proud, 
how  great,  soever  —  who  maintain  them !  Pluck  the  scales 
from  the  hand  of  Fraud,  the  sword  from  the  hand  of  Violence. 
The  balance  and  the  sword  are  the  ancient  attributes  of  Jus- 
tice :  restore  them  to  her  again !  This  be  your  high  task,  these 
be  your  great  ends !  Deem  any  man  who  opposes  them  a 
traitor  to  his  country.  Gain  a  victory  greater  than  those  of 
the  Caesars,  —  a  victory  over  yourselves  !  Let  the  pilgrims 
of  the  world  behold  the  resurrection  of  Rome !  Make  one 
epoch  of  the  Jubilee  of  Religion  and  the  Restoration  of  Law  ! 
Lay  the  sacrifice  of  your  vanquished  passions,  the  first-fruits  of 
your  renovated  liberties,  upon  the  very  altar  that  these  walls 
contain,  and  never,  oh,  never,  since  the  world  began,  shall  men 
have  made  a  more  grateful  offering  to  their  God  !  " 

So  intense  was  the  sensation  these  words  created  in  the  audi- 
ence, so  breathless  and  overpowered  did  they  leave  the  souls 
which  they  took  by  storm,  that  Rienzi  had  descended  the  scaffold 
and  already  disappeared  behind  the  curtain  from  which  he  had 
emerged,  ere  the  crowd  were  fully  aware  that  he  had  ceased. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE  TRIBUNES.  119 

The  singularity  of  this  sudden  apparition,  robed  in  myste- 
rious splendor,  and  vanishing  the  moment  its  errand  was  ful- 
filled, gave  additional  effect  to  the  words  it  had  uttered.  The 
whole  character  of  that  bold  address  became  invested  with  a 
something  preternatural  and  inspired:  to  the  minds  of  the 
vulgar,  the  mortal  was  converted  into  the  oracle  ;  and  marvel- 
ling at  the  unhesitating  courage  with  which  their  idol  had 
rebuked  and  conjured  the  haughty  barons,  each  of  whom  they 
regarded  in  the  light  of  sanctioned  executioners,  whose  anger 
could  be  made  manifest  at  once  by  the  gibbet  or  the  axe,  —  the 
people  could  not  but  superstitiously  imagine  that  nothing  less 
than  authority  from  above  could  have  gifted  their  leader  with 
such  hardihood,  and  preserved  him  from  the  danger  it  incurred. 
In  fact,  it  was  in  this  very  courage  of  Blenzi  that  his  safety 
consisted ;  he  was  placed  in  those  circumstances  where  audacity 
is  prudence.  Had  he  been  less  bold,  the  nobles  would  have 
been  more  severe ;  but  so  great  a  license  of  speech  in  an  officer 
of  the  Holy  See,  they  naturally  imagined,  was  not  unauthorized 
by  the  assent  of  the  Pope,  as  well  as  by  the  approbation  of  the 
people.  Those  who  did  not  (like  Stephen  Colonna)  despise 
words  as  wind,  shrank  back  from  the  task  of  punishing  one 
whose  voice  might  be  the  mere  echo  of  the  wishes  of  the  pon- 
tiff. The  dissensions  of  the  nobles  among  each  other  were  no 
less  favorable  to  Blenzi.  He  attacked  a  body,  the  members  of 
which  had  no  union. 

"  It  is  not  my  duty  to  slay  him !  "  said  one. 

"  I  am  not  the  representative  of  the  barons  !  "  said  another. 

"  If  Stephen  Colonna  heeds  him  not,  it  would  be  absurd,  as 
well  as  dangerous,  in  a  meaner  man  to  make  himself  the 
champion  of  the  order !  "  said  a  third. 

The  Colonna  smiled  approval  when  Rienzi  denounced  an 
Orsini,  —  an  Orsini  laughed  aloud  when  the  eloquence  burst 
over  a  Colonna.  The  lesser  nobles  were  well  pleased  to  hear 
attacks  upon  both ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Bishop,  by 
the  long  impunity  of  Rienzi,  had  taken  courage  to  sanction  the 
conduct  of  his  fellow-officer.  He  affected,  indeed,  at  times  to 
blame  the  excess  of  his  fervor,  but  it  was  always  accompanied 
by  the  praises  of  his  honesty;  and  the  approbation  of  the 


120  RIENZI : 

Pope's  Vicar  confirmed  the  impression  of  the  nobles  as  to  the 
approbation  of  the  Pope.  Thus  from  the  very  rashness  of  his 
enthusiasm  had  grown  his  security  and  success. 

Still,  however,  when  the  barons  had  a  little  recovered  from 
the  stupor  into  which  Rienzi  had  cast  them,  they  looked  round 
to  each  other;  and  their  looks  confessed  their  sense  of  the 
insolence  of  the  orator,  and  the  affront  offered  to  themselves. 

-  Per  fede!"  quoth  Reginaldo  di  Orsini,  "this  is  past 
bearing ;  the  plebeian  has  gone  too  far ! " 

"  Look  at  the  populace  below  !  how  they  murmur  and  gape, 
and  how  their  eyes  sparkle,  and  what  looks  they  bend  at  us ! " 
said  Luca  di  Savelli  to  his  mortal  enemy,  Castruccio  Malatesta : 
the  sense  of  a  common  danger  united  in  one  moment,  but  only 
for  a  moment,  the  enmity  of  years. 

"Diavolo!"  muttered  Raselli  (Nina's  father)  to  a  baron 
equally  poor,  "  but  the  clerk  has  truth  in  his  lips.  '  T  is  a  pity 
he  is  not  noble." 

"  What  a  clever  brain  marred ! "  said  a  Florentine  merchant. 
"  That  man  might  be  something  if  he  were  sufficiently  rich." 

Adrian  and  Montreal  were  silent:  the  first  seemed  lost  in 
thought;  the  last  was  watching  the  various  effects  produced 
upon  the  audience. 

"  Silence  ! "  proclaimed  the  officers.  "  Silence  for  my  Lord 
Vicar." 

At  this  announcement  every  eye  turned  to  Raimond,  who, 
rising  with  much  clerical  importance,  thus  addressed  the 
assembly :  — 

"Although,  Barons  and  Citizens  of  Rome,  my  well-beloved 
flock,  and  children,  I,  no  more  than  yourselves,  anticipated  the 
exact  nature  of  the  address  ye  have  just  heard,  and  albeit  I 
cannot  feel  unalloyed  contentment  at  the  manner,  nor,  I  may 
say,  at  the  whole  matter  of  that  fervent  exhortation,  yet," 
laying  great  emphasis  on  the  last  word,  "  I  cannot  suffer  you 
to  depart  without  adding,  to  the  prayers  of  our  Holy  Father's 
servant,  those  also  of  his  Holiness's  spiritual  representative. 
It  is  true,  the  Jubilee  approaches !  The  Jubilee  approaches  ; 
and  yet  our  roads,  even  to  the  gates  of  Rome,  are  infested 
with  murderers  and  godless  ruffians !  What  pilgrim  can  ven- 


I 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  121 

ture  across  the  Apennines  to  worship  at  the  altars  of  St.  Peter  ? 
The  Jubilee  approaches :  what  scandal  shall  it  be  to  Rome  if 
these  shrines  be  without  pilgrims,  if  the  timid  recoil  from,  if 
the  bold  fall  victims  to,  the  dangers  of  the  way  !  Wherefore 
I  pray  you  all,  citizens  and  chiefs  alike,  I  pray  you  all  to  lay 
aside  those  unhappy  dissensions  which  have  so  long  consumed 
the  strength  of  our  sacred  city,  and,  uniting  with  each  other  in 
the  ties  of  amity  and  brotherhood,  to  form  a  blessed  league 
against  the  marauders  of  the  road.  I  see  amongst  you,  my 
lords,  many  of  the  boasts  and  pillars  of  the  state ;  but  alas  !  I 
think  with  grief  and  dismay  on  the  causeless  and  idle  hatred 
that  has  grown  up  between  you,  —  a  scandal  to  our  city,  and 
reflecting,  let  me  add,  my  lords,  no  honor  on  your  faith  as 
Christians,  nor  on  your  dignity  as  defenders  of  the  Church." 

Amongst  the  inferior  nobles,  along  the  seats  of  the  judges 
and  the  men  of  letters,  through  the  vast  concourse  of  the 
people,  ran  a  loud  murmur  of  approbation  at  these  words. 
The  greater  barons  looked  proudly,  but  not  contemptuously, 
at  the  countenance  of  the  prelate,  and  preserved  a  strict  and 
unrevealing  silence. 

"  In  this  holy  spot,"  continued  the  Bishop,  "  let  me  beseech 
you  to  bury  those  fruitless  animosities  which  have  already  cost 
enough  of  blood  and  treasure,  and  let  us  quit  these  walls  with 
one  common  determination  to  evince  our  courage  and  display 
our  chivalry  only  against  our  universal  foes,  —  those  ruffians 
who  lay  waste  our  fields  and  infest  our  public  ways ;  the  foes 
alike  of  the  people  we  should  protect  and  the  God  whom  we 
should  serve ! " 

The  Bishop  resumed  his  seat;  the  nobles  looked  at  each 
other  without  reply ;  the  people  began  to  whisper  loudly  among 
themselves ;  when,  after  a  short  pause,  Adrian  di  Castello 
rose :  — 

"  Pardon  me,  my  lords,  and  you,  reverend  Father,  if  I,  inex- 
perienced in  years  and  of  little  mark  or  dignity  amongst  you, 
presume  to  be  the  first  to  embrace  the  proposal  we  have  just 
heard.  Willingly  do  I  renounce  all  ancient  cause  of  enmity 
with  any  of  my  compeers.  Fortunately  for  me,  my  long 
absence  from  Rome  has  swept  from  my  remembrance  the  feuds 


K1KN/I: 

and  rivalries  familiar  to  my  early  youth;  and  in  this  noble 
conclave  1  see  but  one  man,"  glancing  at  Martino  di  Porto,  who 
sat  sullenly  looking  down,  "against  whom  I  have  at  any  time 
divined  it  a  duty  to  draw  my  sword:  the  gage  that  I  once  cast 
to  that  noble  is  yet,  I  rejoice  to  think,  unredeemed.  I 
withdraw  it  Henceforth  my  only  foes  shall  be  the  foes  of 
Borne!" 

••  Nobly  spoken ! "  said  the  Bishop,  aloud. 

"And,"  continued  Adrian,  casting  down  his  glove  amongst 
the  nobles, "  I  throw,  my  lords,  the  gage,  thus  resumed,  amongst 
you  all,  in  challenge  to  a  wider  rivalry  and  a  more  noble  field. 
I  invite  any  man  to  vie  with  me  in  the  zeal  that  he  shall  show 
to  restore  tranquillity  to  our  roads  and  order  to  our  state.  It 
is  a  contest  in  which,  if  I  be  vanquished  with  reluctance,  I 
will  yield  the  prize  without  envy.  In  ten  days  from  this  time, 
reverend  Father,  I  will  raise  forty  horsemen-at-arms,  ready  to 
obey  whatever  orders  shall  be  agreed  upon  for  the  security  of 
the  Roman  state.  And  you,  0  Romans,  dismiss,  I  pray  you, 
from  your  minds  those  eloquent  invectives  against  your  fellow- 
citizens  which  ye  have  lately  heard.  All  of  us,  of  what  rank 
soever,  may  have  shared  in  the  excesses  of  these  unhappy 
times;  let  us  endeavor  not  to  avenge  nor  to  imitate,  but  to 
reform  and  to  unite.  And  may  the  people  hereafter  find  that 
the  true  boast  of  a  patrician  is  that  his  power  the  better  enables 
him  to  serve  his  country ! " 

"  Brave  words ! "  quoth  the  smith,  sneeringly. 

"  If  they  were  all  like  him !  "  said  the  smith's  neighbor. 

"  He  has  helped  the  nobles  out  of  a  dilemma,"  said  Pandulfo. 

"  He  has  shown  gray  wit  under  young  hairs,"  said  an  aged 
Malatesta. 

"  You  have  turned  the-tide,  but  not  stemmed  it,  noble  Adrian," 
whispered  the  ever-boding  Montreal,  as,  amidst  the  murmurs 
of  the  general  approbation,  the  young  Colonna  resumed  his 
seat 

"  How  mean  you  ?  "  said  Adrian. 

"  That  your  soft  words,  like  all  patrician  conciliations,  have 
come  too  late." 

Not  another  noble  stirred,  though  they  felt  perhaps   dis- 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  123 

posed  to  join  in  the  general  feeling  of  amnesty,  and  appeared, 
by  signs  and  whispers,  to  applaud  the  speech  of  Adrian.  They 
were  too  habituated  to  the  ungracefulness  of  an  unlettered 
pride  to  bow  themselves  to  address  conciliating  language  either 
to  the  people  or  their  foes.  And  Kaimond,  glancing  round, 
and  not  willing  that  their  unseemly  silence  should  be  long 
remarked,  rose  at  once,  to  give  it  the  best  construction  in  his 
power :  — 

"  My  son,  thou  hast  spoken  as  a  patriot  and  a  Christian ;  by 
the  approving  silence  of  your  peers  we  all  feel  that  they  share 
your  sentiments.  Break  we  up  the  meeting;  its  end  is 
obtained.  The  manner  of  our  proceeding  against  the  leagued 
robbers  of  the  road  requires  maturer  consideration  elsewhere. 
This  day  shall  be  an  epoch  in  our  history." 

"It  shall,"  quoth  Cecco  del  Vecchio,  gruffly,  between  his 
teeth. 

"  Children,  my  blessing  upon  you  all !  "  concluded  the  Vicar, 
spreading  his  arms. 

And  in  a  few  minutes  more  the  crowd  poured  from  the 
church.  The  different  servitors  and  flag-bearers  ranged  them- 
selves on  the  steps  without,  each  train  anxious  for  their  mas- 
ter's precedence;  and  the  nobles,  gravely  collecting  in  small 
knots,  in  the  which  was  no  mixture  of  rival  blood,  followed 
the  crowd  down  the  aisles.  Soon  rose  again  the  din  and  the 
noise  and  the  wrangling  and  the  oaths  of  the  hostile  bands,  as, 
with  pain  and  labor,  the  Vicar's  officers  marshalled  them  in 
"order  most  disorderly." 

But  so  true  were  Montreal's  words  to  Adrian  that  the  popu- 
lace already  half  forgot  the  young  noble's  generous  appeal,  and 
were  only  bitterly  commenting  on  the  ungracious  silence  of  his 
brother  lords.  What,  too,  to  them  was  this  crusade  against 
the  robbers  of  the  road  ?  They  blamed  the  good  Bishop  for 
not  saying  boldly  to  the  nobles  :  "  Ye  are  the  first  robbers  we 
must  march  against ! "  The  popular  discontents  had  gone  far 
beyond  palliatives ;  they  had  arrived  at  that  point  when  the 
people  longed  less  for  reform  than  change.  There  are  times 
when  a  revolution  cannot  be  warded  off ;  it  must  come,  —  come 
alike  by  resistance  or  by  concession.  Woe  to  that  race  in 


1-J4  RIENZI: 

which  a  revolution  produces  no  fruits;  in  which  the  thunder- 
bolt smites  the  high  place,  but  does  not  purify  the  air !  To 
suffer  in  vain  is  often  the  lot  of  the  noblest  individuals ;  but 
when  a  People  suffer  in  vain,  let  them  curse  themselves  1 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   AMBITIOUS   CITIZEN,    AND    THE   AMBITIOUS    SOLDIER. 

THE  Bishop  of  Orvietto  lingered  last,  to  confer  with  Kienzi, 
who  awaited  him  in  the  recesses  of  the  Lateran.  Eaimond 
had  the  penetration  not  to  be  seduced  into  believing  that  the 
late  scene  could  effect  any  reformation  amongst  the  nobles, 
heal  their  divisions,  or  lead  them  actively  against  the  infestors 
of  the  Campagna.  But  as  he  detailed  to  Rienzi  all  that  had 
occurred  subsequent  to  the  departure  of  that  hero  of  the  scene, 
he  concluded  with  saying :  — 

"  You  will  perceive  from  this,  one  good  result  will  be  pro- 
duced :  the  first  armed  dissension,  the  first  fray  among  the 
nobles,  will  seem  like  a  breach  of  promise,  and  to  the  people 
and  to  the  Pope,  a  reasonable  excuse  for  despairing  of  all 
amendment  amongst  the  Barons,  —  an  excuse  which  will 
sanction  the  efforts  of  the  first,  and  the  approval  of  the  last." 

"  For  such  a  fray  we  shall  not  long  wait,"  answered  Rienzi. 

"  I  believe  the  prophecy,"  answered  Raimond,  smiling ;  "  at 
present  all  runs  well.  Go  you  with  us  homeward  ?  " 

"Nay,  I  think  it  better  to  tarry  here  till  the  crowd  is  en- 
tirely dispersed ;  for  if  they  were  to  see  me,  in  their  present 
excitement,  they  might  insist  on  some  rash  and  hasty  enter- 
prise. Besides,  my  lord,"  added  Rienzi,  "with  an  ignorant 
people,  however  honest  and  enthusiastic,  this  rule  must  be 
rigidly  observed,  —  stale  not  your  presence  by  custom.  Never 
may  men  like  me,  who  have  no  external  rank,  appear  amongst 
the  crowd,  save  on  those  occasions  when  the  mind  is  itself  a 
rank." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  125 

"That  is  true,  as  you  have  no  train,"  answered  Raimond, 
thinking  of  his  own  well-liveried  menials.  "  Adieu,  then ;  we 
shall  meet  soon ! " 

"  Ay,  at  Philippi,  my  lord.   Eeverend  Father,  your  blessing ! " 

It  was  some  time  subsequent  to  this  conference  that  Eienzi 
quitted  the  sacred  edifice.  As  he  stood  on  the  steps  of  the 
church  —  now  silent  and  deserted  —  the  hour  that  precedes  the 
brief  twilight  of  the  South  lent  its  magic  to  the  view.  There 
he  beheld  the  sweeping  arches  of  the  mighty  Aqueduct  ex- 
tending far  along  the  scene,  and  backed  by  the  distant  and 
purpled  hills.  Before,  to  the  right,  rose  the  gate  which  took 
its  Roman  name  from  the  Coelian  Mount,  at  whose  declivity  it 
yet  stands.  Beyond  —  from  the  height  of  the  steps  —  he  saw 
the  villages  scattered  through  the  gray  Campagna,  whitening 
in  the  sloped  sun ;  and  in  the  farthest  distance  the  mountain 
shadows  began  to  darken  over  the  roofs  of  the  ancient  Tuscu- 
lum,  and  the  second  Alban l  city,  which  yet  rises,  in  desolate 
neglect,  above  the  vanished  palaces  of  Pompey  and  Domitian. 

The  Roman  stood  absorbed  and  motionless  for  some  moments, 
gazing  on  the  scene  and  inhaling  the  sweet  balm  of  the  mellow 
air.  It  was  the  soft  spring-time,  —  the  season  of  flowers  and 
green  leaves  and  whispering  winds,  —  the  pastoral  May  of 
Italia's  poets ;  but  hushed  was  the  voice  of  song  on  the  banks 
of  the  Tiber,  the  reeds  gave  music  no  more.  From  the  sacred 
Mount  in  which  Saturn  held  his  home,  the  Dryad  and  the 
Nymph  and  Italy's  native  Sylvan  were  gone  forever.  Rienzi's 
original  nature,  —  its  enthusiasm,  its  veneration  for  the  past, 
its  love  of  the  beautiful  and  the  great,  that  very  attachment  to 
the  graces  and  pomp  which  give  so  florid  a  character  to  the 
harsh  realities  of  life,  and  which  power  afterwards  too  lux- 
uriantly developed;  the  exuberance  of  thoughts  and  fancies, 
which  poured  itself  from  his  lips  in  so  brilliant  and  inexhaust- 
ible a  flood,  —  all  bespoke  those  intellectual  and  imaginative 
Masses  which,  in  calmer  times,  might  have  raised  him  in  litera- 

1  The  first  Alba  —  the  Alba  Longa  —  whose  origin  Fable  ascribes  to 
Ascanins,  was  destroyed  by  Tullus  Hostilius.  The  second  Alba,  or  modern 
Albano,  was  erected  on  the  plain  below  the  ancient  town,  a  little  before  the 
time  of  Nero. 


1  -_Y,  RIENZI : 

ture  to  a  more  indisputable  eminence  than  that  to  which  action 
can  ever  lead;  and  something  of  such  consciousness  crossed 
his  spirit  at  that  moment. 

••  Happier  had  it  been  for  me,"  thought  he,  "had  I  never 
looked  out  from  my  own  heart  upon  the  world.  I  had  all 
within  me  that  makes  contentment  of  the  present,  because  I 
had  that  which  can  make  me  forget  the  present.  I  had  the 
power  to  re-people,  to  create ;  the  legends  and  dreams  of  old, 
the  divine  faculty  of  verse,  in  which  the  beautiful  superflui- 
ties of  the  heart  can  pour  themselves,  —  these  were  mine! 
Petrarch  chose  wisely  for  himself !  To  address  the  world,  but 
from  without  the  world ;  to  persuade,  to  excite,  to  command, 
for  these  are  the  aim  and  glory  of  ambition :  but  to  shun  its 
tumult  and  its  toil !  His  the  quiet  cell  which  he  fills  with  the 
shapes  of  beauty ;  the  solitude,  from  which  he  can  banish  the 
evil  times  whereon  we  are  fallen,  but  in  which  he  can  dream 
back  the  great  hearts  and  the  glorious  epochs  of  the  past. 
For  me,  —  to  what  cares  I  am  wedded ;  to  what  labors  I  am 
bound ;  what  instruments  I  must  use ;  what  disguises  I  must 
assume ;  to  tricks  and  artifice  I  must  bow  my  pride !  Base  are 
my  enemies,  uncertain  my  friends ;  and  verily,  in  this  strug- 
gle with  blinded  and  mean  men,  the  soul  itself  becomes 
warped  and  dwarfish.  Patient  and  darkling,  the  Means  creep 
through  caves  and  the  soiling  mire,  to  gain  at  last  the  light 
which  is  the  End." 

In  these  reflections  there  was  a  truth,  the  whole  gloom  and 
sadness  of  which  the  Roman  had  not  yet  experienced.  How- 
ever august  be  the  object  we  propose  to  ourselves,  every  less 
worthy  path  we  take  to  insure  it  distorts  the  mental  sight  of 
our  ambition ;  and  the  means,  by  degrees,  abase  the  end  to 
their  own  standard.  This  is  the  true  misfortune  of  a  man 
nobler  than  his  age,  —  that  the  instruments  he  must  use  soil 
himself :  half  he  reforms  his  times ;  but  half,  too,  the  times 
will  corrupt  the  reformer.  His  own  craft  undermines  his 
safety;  the  people,  whom  he  himself  accustoms  to  a  false 
excitement,  perpetually  crave  it ;  and  when  their  ruler  ceases 
to  seduce  their  fancy,  he  falls  their  victim.  The  reform  he 
makes  by  these  means  is  hollow  and  momentary,  it  is  swept 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  127 

away  with  himself ;  it  was  but  the  trick,  the  show,  the  wasted 
genius  of  a  conjuror :  the  curtain  falls,  the  magic  is  over,  the 
cup  and  balls  are  kicked  aside.  Better  one  slow  step  in  en- 
lightenment—  which,  being  made  by  the  reason  of  a  whole 
people,  cannot  recede  —  than  these  sudden  flashes  in  the 
depth  of  the  general  night  which  the  darkness,  by  contrast 
doubly  dark,  swallows  up  everlastingly  again! 

As,  slowly  and  musingly,  Rienzi  turned  to  quit  the  church, 
he  felt  a  light  touch  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Fair  evening  to  you,  Sir  Scholar !  "  said  a  frank  voice. 

"To  you  I  return  the  courtesy,"  answered  Eienzi,  gazing 
upon  the  person  who  thus  suddenly  accosted  him,  and  in 
whose  white  cross  and  martial  bearing  the  reader  recognizes 
the  Knight  of  St.  John. 

"  You  know  me  not,  I  think  ?  "  said  Montreal.  "  But  that 
matters  little;  we  may  easily  commence  our  acquaintance, — 
fqr  me,  indeed,  I  am  fortunate  enough  to  have  made  myself 
already  acquainted  with  you." 

"  Possibly  we  have  met  elsewhere,  at  the  house  of  one  of 
those  nobles  to  whose  rank  you  seem  to  belong  ? " 

"  Belong  ?  no,  not  exactly ! "  returned  Montreal,  proudly. 
"  High-born  and  great  as  your  magnates  deem  themselves,  I 
would  not,  while  the  mountains  can  yield  one  free  spot  for  my 
footstep,  change  my  place  in  the  world's  many  grades  for 
theirs.  To  the  brave  there  is  but  one  sort  of  plebeian,  and 
that  is  the  coward.  But  you,  sage  Rienzi,"  continued  the 
Knight,  in  a  gayer  tone,  "  I  have  seen  in  more  stirring  scenes 
than  the  hall  of  a  Roman  Baron." 

Rienzi  glanced  keenly  at  Montreal,  who  met  his  eye  with  an 
open  brow. 

"  Yes  ! "  resumed  the  Knight  —  "  but  let  us  walk  on ;  suffer 
me  for  a  few  moments  to  be  your  companion.  Yes  !  I  have 
listened  to  you,  —  the  other  eve,  when  you  addressed  the 
populace,  and  to-day,  when  you  rebuked  the  nobles ;  and  at 
midnight,  too,  not  long  since,  when  (your  ear,  fair  Sir !  — 
lower,  it  is  a  secret !)  —  at  midnight,  too,  when  you  adminis- 
tered the  oath  of  brotherhood  to  the  bold  conspirators  on  the 
ruined  Aventine ! " 


128  RIENZI: 

As  he  concluded,  the  Knight  drew  himself  aside,  to  watch 
upon  Rienzi's  countenance  the  effect  which  his  words  might 
produce. 

A  slight  tremor  passed  over  the  frame  of  the  conspirator,  — 
for  so,  unless  the  conspiracy  succeed,  would  Eienzi  be  termed, 
by  others  than  Montreal ;  he  turned  abruptly  round  to  con- 
front the  Knight,  and  placed  his  hand  involuntarily  on  his 
sword;  but  presently  relinquished  the  grasp. 

"  Ha ! "  said  the  Roman,  slowly,  "  if  this  be  true,  fall  Rome ! 
There  is  treason  even  among  the  free!" 

"No  treason,  brave  Sir!"  answered  Montreal;  "I  possess 
thy  secret,  but  none  have  betrayed  it  to  me." 

"  And  is  it  as  friend,  or  foe,  that  thou  hast  learned  it  ?  " 

"That  as  it  may  be,"  returned  Montreal,  carelessly. 
"Enough,  at  present,  that  I  could  send  thee  to  the  gibbet, 
if  I  said  but  the  word,  to  show  my  power  to  be  thy  foe ; 
enough  that  I  have  not  done  it,  to  prove  my  disposition  to  be 
thy  friend." 

"Thou  mistakest,  stranger;  that  man  does  not  live  who 
could  shed  my  blood  in  the  streets  of  Rome !  The  gibbet ! 
Little  dost  thou  know  of  the  power  which  surrounds 
Rienzi." 

These  words  were  said  with  some  scorn  and  bitterness ;  but 
after  a  moment's  pause  Rienzi  resumed,  more  calmly,  — 

"By  the  cross  on  thy  mantle,  thou  belongest  to  one  of  the 
proudest  orders  of  knighthood;  thou  art  a  foreigner,  and  a 
cavalier.  What  generous  sympathies  can  convert  thee  into 
a  friend  of  the  Roman  people  ?  " 

"  Cola  di  Rienzi,"  returned  Montreal,  "  the  sympathies  that 
unite  us  are  those  which  unite  all  men  who  by  their  own 
efforts  rise  above  the  herd.  True,  I  was  born  noble,  but 
powerless  and  poor ;  at  my  beck  now  move,  from  city  to  city, 
the  armed  instruments  of  authority  :  my  breath  is  the  law  of 
thousands.  This  empire  I  have  not  inherited;  I  won  it  by 
a  cool  brain  and  a  fearless  arm.  Know  me  for  Walter  de 
Montreal:  is  it  not  a  name  that  speaks  a  spirit  kindred  to 
thine  own  ?  Is  not  ambition  a  common  sentiment  between 
us  ?  I  do  not  marshal  soldiers  for  gain  only,  though  men 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUTES.  129 

have  termed  me  avaricious,  nor  butcher  peasants  for  the  love 
of  blood,  though  men  have  called  me  cruel.  Arms  and  wealth 
are  the  sinews  of  power:  it  is  power  that  I  desire.  Thou, 
bold  Rienzi,  strugglest  thou  not  for  the  same  ?  Is  it  the  rank 
breath  of  the  garlic-chewing  mob,  is  it  the  whispered  envy  of 
schoolmen,  is  it  the  hollow  mouthing  of  boys  who  call  thee 
patriot  and  freeman  —  words  to  trick  the  ear  —  that  will  con- 
tent thee  ?  These  are  but  thy  instruments  to  power.  Have 
I  spoken  truly?" 

Whatever  distaste  Rienzi  might  conceive  at  this  speech  he 
masked  effectually.  "  Certes,"  said  he,  "  it  would  be  in  vain, 
renowned  Captain,  to  deny  that  I  seek  but  that  power  of 
which  thou  speakest.  But  what  union  can  there  be  between 
the  ambition  of  a  Roman  citizen  and  the  leader  of  paid  armies 
that  take  their  cause  only  according  to  their  hire,  —  to-day 
fight  for  liberty  in  Florence,  to-morrow  for  tyranny  in 
Bologna  ?  Pardon  my  frankness ;  for  in  this  age  that  is 
deemed  no  disgrace  which  I  impute  to  thy  armies.  Valor  and 
generalship  are  held  to  consecrate  any  cause  they  distinguish ; 
and  he  who  is  the  master  of  princes  may  be  well  honored  by 
them  as  their  equal." 

"  We  are  entering  into  a  less  deserted  quarter  of  the  town," 
said  the  Knight :  "  is  there  no  secret  place,  no  Aventine,  in 
this  direction,  where  we  can  confer  ?  " 

"  Hush  ! "  replied  Rienzi,  cautiously  looking  round.  "  I 
thank  thee,  noble  Montreal,  for  the  hint;  nor  may  it  be  well 
for  us  to  be  seen  together.  Wilt  thou  deign  to  follow  me  to 
my  home  by  the  Palatine  Bridge  ? l  There  we  can  converse 
undisturbed  and  secure." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Montreal,  falling  back. 

With  a  quick  and  hurried  step,  Rienzi  passed  through  the 
town,  in  which,  wherever  he  was  discovered,  the  scattered 

1  The  picturesque  ruins  shown  at  this  day  as  having  once  been  the  habita- 
tion of  the  celebrated  Cola  di  Rienzi  were  long  asserted  by  the  antiquaries  to 
have  belonged  to  another  Cola,  or  Nicola.  I  believe,  however,  that  the  dis- 
pute has  been  lately  decided,  —  and,  indeed,  no  one  but  an  antiquary,  and 
that  a  Roman  one,  could  suppose  that  there  were  two  Colas  to  whom  the 
inscription  on  the  house  would  apply. 

VOL.  i.  —  9 


180  RIENZI : 

citizens  saluted  him  with  marked  respect ;  and  turning  through 
a  labyrinth  of  dark  alleys,  as  if  to  shun  the  more  public 
thoroughfares,  arrived  at  length  at  a  broad  space  near  the 
river.  The  first  stars  of  night  shone  down  on  the  ancient 
temple  of  Fortuna  Virilis,  which  the  chances  of  Time  had 
already  converted  into  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  of  Egypt ;  and 
facing  the  twice-hallowed  edifice  stood  the  house  of  Kienzi. 

"  It  is  a  fair  omen  to  have  my  mansion  facing  the  ancient 
Temple  of  Fortune,"  said  Rienzi,  smiling,  as  Montreal  followed 
the  Roman  into  the  chamber  I  have  already  described. 

"  Yet  Valor  need  never  pray  to  Fortune,"  said  the  Knight ; 
"  the  first  commands  the  last." 

Long  was  the  conference  between  these  two  men,  the  most 
enterprising  of  their  age.  Meanwhile,  let  me  make  the  reader 
somewhat  better  acquainted  with  the  character  and  designs  of 
Montreal  than  the  hurry  of  events  has  yet  permitted  him  to 
become. 

Walter  de  Montreal,  generally  known  in  the  chronicles  of 
Italy  by  the  designation  of  Fra  Moreale,  had  passed  into  Italy 
—  a  bold  adventurer,  worthy  to  become  a  successor  of  those 
roving  Normans  (from  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  whom,  by 
the  mother's  side,  he  claimed  descent)  who  had  formerly  played 
so  strange  a  part  in  the  chivalric  errantry  of  Europe  —  real- 
izing the  fables  of  Amadis  and  Palmerin  (each  knight  in 
himself  a  host),  winning  territories  and  oversetting  thrones, 
acknowledging  no  laws  save  those  of  knighthood,  never  con- 
founding themselves  with  the  tribes  amongst  which  they 
settled,  incapable  of  becoming  citizens,  and  scarcely  contented 
with  aspiring  to  be  kings.  At  that  time  Italy  was  the  India 
of  all  those  well-born  and  penniless  adventurers  who,  like 
Montreal,  had  inflamed  their  imagination  by  the  ballads  and 
legends  of  the  Roberts  and  the  Godfreys  of  old,  who  had 
trained  themselves  from  youth  to  manage  the  barb,  and  bear 
through  the  heat  of  summer  the  weight  of  arms,  and  who, 
passing  into  an  effeminate  and  distracted  land,  had  only  to 
exhibit  bravery  in  order  to  command  wealth.  It  was  considered 
no  disgrace  for  some  powerful  chieftain  to  collect  together  a 
band  of  these  hardy  aliens,  to  subsist  amidst  the  mountains  on 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  131 

booty  and  pillage,  to  make  war  upon  tyrant  or  republic  as 
interest  suggested,  and  to  sell,  at  enormous  stipends,  the  im- 
munities of  peace.  Sometimes  they  hired  themselves  to  one 
state  to  protect  it  against  the  other  ;  and  the  next  year  beheld 
them  in  the  field  against  their  former  employers.  These  bands 
of  Northern  stipendiaries  assumed,  therefore,  a  civil  as  well  as 
a  military  importance  ;  they  were  as  indispensable  to  the  safety 
of  one  state  as  they  were  destructive  to  the  security  of  all. 
But  five  years  before  the  present  date,  the  Florentine  Republic 
had  hired  the  services  of  a  celebrated  leader  of  these  foreign 
soldiers,  —  Grualtier,  Duke  of  Athens.  By  acclamation  the 
people  themselves  had  elected  that  warrior  to  the  state  of 
prince,  or  tyrant,  of  their  State;  before  the  year  was  com- 
pleted they  revolted  against  his  cruelties,  or  rather  against  his 
exactions,  —  for,  despite  all  the  boasts  of  their  historians,  they 
felt  an  attack  on  their  purses  more  deeply  than  an  assault  on 
their  liberties,  —  they  had  chased  him  from  their  city,  and 
once  more  proclaimed  themselves  a  Republic.  The  bravest 
and  most  favored  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Duke  of  Athens  had 
been  Walter  de  Montreal ;  he  had  shared  the  rise  and  the  down- 
fall of  his  chief.  Amongst  popular  commotions,  the  acute  and 
observant  mind  of  the  Knight  of  St.  John  had  learned  no 
mean  civil  experience,  —  he  had  learned  to  sound  a  people,  to 
know  how  far  they  would  endure,  to  construe  the  signs  of  revo- 
lution, to  be  a  reader  of  the  times.  After  the  downfall  of  the 
Duke  of  Athens  as  a  Free  Companion,  in  other  words  a  Free- 
booter, Montreal  had  augmented  under  the  fierce  Werner  his 
riches  and  his  renown.  At  present  without  employment  worthy 
his  spirit  of  enterprise  and  intrigue,  the  disordered  and  chief- 
less  state  of  Rome  had  attracted  him  thither.  In  the  league 
he  had  proposed  to  Colonna,  in  the  suggestions  he  had  made 
to  the  vanity  of  that  Signor,  his  own  object  was  to  render  his 
services  indispensable,  —  to  constitute  himself  the  head  of  the 
soldiery  whom  his  proposed  designs  would  render  necessary  to 
the  ambition  of  the  Colonna,  could  it  be  excited ;  and  in  the 
vastness  of  his  hardy  genius  for  enterprise  he  probably  fore- 
saw that  the  command  of  such  a  force  would  be  in  reality  the 
command  of  Rome :  a  counter-revolution  might  easily  unseat 


182  RIENZI : 

the  Colonna  and  elect  himself  to  the  principality.  It  had 
sometimes  been  the  custom  of  Roman,  as  of  other  Italian 
States,  to  prefer  for  a  chief  magistrate,  under  the  title  of 
Podesto,  a  foreigner  to  a  native.  And  Montreal  hoped  that  he 
might  possibly  become  to  Home  what  the  Duke  of  Athens  had 
been  to  Florence,  —  an  ambition  he  knew  well  enough  to  be 
above  the  gentleman  of  Provence,  but  not  above  the  leader  of 
an  army.  But,  as  we  have  already  seen,  his  sagacity  perceived 
at  once  that  he  could  not  move  the  aged  head  of  the  patricians 
to  those  hardy  and  perilous  measures  which  were  necessary  to 
the  attainment  of  supreme  power.  Contented  with  his  present 
station,  and  taught  moderation  by  his  age  and  his  past  reverses, 
Stephen  Colonna  was  not  the  man  to  risk  a  scaffold  from  the 
hope  to  gain  a  throne.  The  contempt  which  the  old  patrician 
professed  for  the  people  and  their  idol  also  taught  the  deep- 
thinking  Montreal  that  if  the  Colonna  possessed  not  the  ambi- 
tion, neither  did  he  possess  the  policy,  requisite  for  empire. 
The  Knight  found  his  caution  against  Rienzi  in  vain,  and  he 
turned  to  Bienzi  himself.  Little  cared  the  Knight  of  St.  John 
which  party  were  uppermost,  prince  or  people,  so  that  his  own 
objects  were  attained,  —  in  fact,  he  had  studied  the  humors  of 
a  people,  not  in  order  to  serve,  but  to  rule  them ;  and  believing 
all  men  actuated  by  a  similar  ambition,  he  imagined  that, 
whether  a  demagogue  or  a  patrician  reigned,  the  people  were 
equally  to  be  victims,  and  that  the  cry  of  "  Order  "  on  the  one 
hand,  or  of  "  Liberty  "  on  the  other,  was  but  the  mere  pretext 
by  which  the  energy  of  one  man  sought  to  justify  his  ambi- 
tion over  the  herd.  Deeming  himself  one  of  the  most  honor- 
able spirits  of  his  age,  he  believed  in  no  honor  which  he  was 
unable  to  feel ;  and,  sceptic  in  virtue,  was  therefore  credulous 
of  vice. 

But  the  boldness  of  his  own  nature  inclined  him  perhaps 
rather  to  the  adventurous  Rienzi  than  to  the  self-complacent 
Colonna ;  and  he  considered  that  to  the  safety  of  the  first  he 
and  his  armed  minions  might  be  even  more  necessary  than  to 
that  of  the  last.  At  present  his  main  object  was  to  learn  from 
Rienzi  the  exact  strength  which  he  possessed,  and  how  far  he 
was  prepared  for  any  actual  revolt. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  133 

The  acute  Roman  took  care,  on  the  one  hand,  how  he 
betrayed  to  the  Knight  more  than  he  yet  knew,  or  disgusted 
him  by  apparent  reserve  on  the  other.  Crafty  as  Montreal 
was,  he  possessed  not  that  wonderful  art  of  mastering  others 
which  was  so  pre-eminently  the  gift  of  the  eloquent  and  pro- 
found Rienzi,  and  the  difference  between  the  grades  of  their 
intellect  was  visible  in  their  present  conference. 

"  I  see,"  said  Rienzi,  "  that  amidst  all  the  events  which  have 
lately  smiled  upon  my  ambition,  none  is  so  favorable  as  that 
which  assures  me  of  your  countenance  and  friendship.  In 
truth,  I  require  some  armed  alliance.  Would  you  believe  it  ? 
Our  friends,  so  bold  in  private  meetings,  yet  shrink  from  a 
public  explosion.  They  fear  not  the  patricians,  but  the  sol- 
diery of  the  patricians  ;  for  it  is  the  remarkable  feature  in  the 
Italian  courage  that  they  have  no  terror  for  each  other,  but  the 
casque  and  sword  of  a  foreign  hireling  make  them  quail  like 
deer." 

"  They  will  welcome  gladly,  then,  the  assurance  that  such 
hirelings  shall  be  in  their  service,  —  not  against  them  ;  and  as 
many  as  you  desire  for  the  revolution,  so  many  shall  you 
receive." 

"  But  the  pay  and  the  conditions,"  said  Rienzi,  with  his  dry, 
sarcastic  smile.  "  How  shall  we  arrange  the  first,  and  what 
shall  we  hold  to  be  the  second  ?  " 

"That  is  an  affair  easily  concluded,"  replied  Montreal. 
"  For  me,  to  tell  you  frankly,  the  glory  and  excitement  of  so 
great  a  revulsion  would  alone  suffice.  I  like  to  feel  myself 
necessary  to  the  completion  of  high  events.  For  my  men  it  is 
otherwise.  Your  first  act  will  be  to  seize  the  revenues  of  the 
state.  Well,  whatever  they  amount  to,  the  product  of  the  first 
year,  great  or  small,  shall  be  divided  amongst  us.  You  the 
one  half,  and  I  and  my  men  the  other  half." 

"  It  is  much,"  said  Rienzi,  gravely,  and  as  if  in  calculation ; 
"  but  Rome  cannot  purchase  her  liberties  too  dearly.  So  be  it 
then  decided." 

, "  Amen !  And  now,  then,  what  is  your  force  ?  for  these 
eighty  or  a  hundred  signers  of  the  Aventine  —  worthy  men, 
doubtless  —  scarce  suffice  for  a  revolt!" 


134  RIEXZI : 

Gazing  cautiously  round  the  room,  the  Roman  placed  his 
hand  on  Montreal's  arm,  — 

"  Between  you  and  me,  it  requires  time  to  cement  it.  We 
shall  be  unable  to  stir  these  five  weeks.  I  have  too  rashly 
anticipated  the  period.  The  corn  is  indeed  cut,  but  I  must 
now,  by  private  adjuration  and  address,  bind  up  the  scattered 
sheaves." 

"  Five  weeks,"  repeated  Montreal  j  "  that  is  far  longer  than 
I  anticipated." 

"  What  I  desire,"  continued  Rienzi,  fixing  his  searching  eyes 
upon  Montreal,  "  is,  that  in  the  meanwhile  we  should  preserve 
a  profound  calm,  we  should  remove  every  suspicion.  I  shall 
bury  myself  in  my  studies,  and  convoke  no  more  meetings." 

"Well—  » 

"  And  for  yourself,  noble  Knight,  might  I  venture  to  dictate, 
I  would  pray  you  to  mix  with  the  nobles,  to  profess  for  me 
and  for  the  people  the  profoundest  contempt,  and  to  contribute 
to  rock  them  yet  more  in  the  cradle  of  their  false  security. 
Meanwhile,  you  could  quietly  withdraw  as  many  of  the  armed 
mercenaries  as  you  influence  from  Rome,  and  leave  the  nobles 
without  their  only  defenders.  Collecting  these  hardy  war- 
riors in  the  recesses  of  the  mountains,  a  day's  march  from 
hence,  we  may  be  able  to  summon  them  at  need,  and  they 
shall  appear  at  our  gates  and  in  the  midst  of  our  rising, — 
hailed  as  deliverers  by  the  nobles,  but  in  reality  allies  with 
the  people.  In  the  confusion  and  despair  of  our  enemies  at 
discovering  their  mistake,  they  will  fly  from  the  city." 

"  And  its  revenue  and  its  empire  will  become  the  appanage 
of  the  hardy  soldier  and  the  intriguing  demagogue  1 "  cried 
Montreal,  with  a  laugh. 

"Sir  Knight,  the  division  shall  be  equal." 

"Agreed!" 

"And  now,  noble  Montreal,  a  flask  of  our  best  vintage!" 
said  Rienzi,  changing  his  tone. 

"You  know  the  Provencals,"  answered  Montreal,  gayly. 

The  wine  was  brought,  the  conversation  became  free  and 
familiar,  and  Montreal,  whose  craft  was  acquired,  and  whose 
frankness  was  natural,  unwittingly  committed  his  secret  pro- 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  135 

jects  and  ambition  more  nakedly  to  Eienzi,  than  lie  had  de- 
signed to  do.  They  parted  apparently  the  best  of  friends. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Eienzi,  as  they  drained  the  last  goblet, 
"  Stephen  Colonna  betakes  him  to  Corneto,  with  a  convoy  of 
corn,  on  the  19th.  Will  it  not  be  as  well  if  you  join  him  ? 
You  can  take  that  opportunity  to  whisper  discontent  to  the 
mercenaries  that  accompany  him  on  his  mission,  and  induce 
them  to  our  plan." 

"  I  thought  of  that  before,"  returned  Montreal ;  "  it  shall  be 
done.  For  the  present,  farewell ! 

"  '  His  barb  and  his  sword, 

And  his  lady  the  peerless, 
Are  all  that  are  prized 
By  Orlando  the  fearless. 

" '  Success  to  the  Norman, 
The  darling  of  story  ; 
His  glory  is  pleasure, 
His  pleasure  is  glory.'  " 

Chanting  this  rude  ditty  as  he  resumed  his  mantle,  the 
Knight  waved  his  hand  to  Klenzi  and  departed. 

Kienzi  watched  the  receding  form  of  his  guest  with  an  ex- 
pression of  hate  and  fear  upon  his  countenance.  "  Give  that 
man  the  power,"  he  muttered,  "  and  he  may  be  a  second 
Totila.1  Methinks  I  see,  in  his  griping  and  ferocious  nature, 
through  all  the  gloss  of  its  gayety  and  knightly  grace,  the 
very  personification  of  our  old  Gothic  foes.  I  trust  I  have 
lulled  him !  Verily,  two  suns  could  no  more  blaze  in  one 
hemisphere  than  Walter  de  Montreal  and  Cola  di  Eienzi  live 
in  the  same  city.  The  star-seers  tell  us  that  we  feel  a  secret 
and  uncontrollable  antipathy  to  those  whose  astral  influences 
destine  them  to  work  us  evil ;  such  antipathy  do  I  feel  for  yon 
fair-faced  homicide.  Cross  not  my  path,  Montreal ;  cross  not 
my  path ! " 

With  this  soliloquy  Kienzi  turned  within,  and,  retiring  to 
his  apartment,  was  seen  no  more  that  night. 

1  Innocent  VL,  some  years  afterwards,  proclaimed  Montreal  to  be  worse 
than  Totila. 


13C  RIENZI : 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   PROCESSION   OP    THE   BARONS  —  THE   BEGINNING  OP 
TUB   END. 

IT  was  the  morning  of  the  19th  of  May ;  the  air  was  brisk 
and  clear,  and  the  sun,  which  had  just  risen,  shone  cheerily 
upon  the  glittering  casques  and  spears  of  a  gallant  procession 
of  armed  horsemen,  sweeping  through  the  long  and  principal 
street  of  Rome.  The  neighing  of  the  horses,  the  ringing  of 
the  hoofs,  the  dazzle  of  the  armor,  and  the  tossing  to  and 
fro  of  the  standards,  adorned  with  the  proud  insignia  of  the 
Colonna,  presented  one  of  the  gay  and  brilliant  spectacles 
peculiar  to  the  Middle  Ages. 

At  the  head  of  the  troop,  on  a  stout  palfrey,  rode  Stephen 
Colonna.  At  his  right  was  the  Knight  of  Provence,  curbing, 
with  an  easy  hand,  a  slight  but  fiery  steed  of  the  Arab  race ; 
behind  him  followed  two  squires,  the  one  leading  his  war 
horse,  the  other  bearing  his  lance  and  helmet.  At  the  left  of 
Stephen  Colonna  rode  Adrian,  grave  and  silent,  and  replying 
only  by  monosyllables  to  the  gay  bavardage  of  the  Knight  of 
Provence.  A  considerable  number  of  the  flower  of  the  Roman 
nobles  followed  the  old  baron,  and  the  train  was  closed  by 
a  serried  troop  of  foreign  horsemen  completely  armed. 

There  was  no  crowd  in  the  street ;  the  citizens  looked  with 
seeming  apathy  at  the  procession  from  their  half-closed  shops. 

"  Have  these  Romans  no  passion  for  shows  ?  "  asked  Mon- 
treal. "  If  they  could  be  more  easily  amused,  they  would  be 
more  easily  governed." 

"  Oh !  Rienzi  and  such  buffoons  amuse  them.  We  do  better, 
— we  terrify!"  replied  Stephen. 

"What  sings  the  troubadour,  Lord  Adrian?"  said  Montreal, 

" '  Smiles,  false  smiles,  should  form  the  school 
For  those  who  rise  and  those  who  rule. 
The  brave  they  trick,  the  fair  subdue, 
Kings  deceive,  and  States  undo,  — 
Smiles,  false  smiles ! 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  137 

" '  Frowns,  true  frowns,  ourselves  betray, 
The  brave  arouse,  the  fair  dismay, 
Sting  the  pride  which  blood  must  heal, 
Mix  the  bowl  and  point  the  steel. 

Frowns,  true  frowns  ! ' 

The  lay  is  of  France,  Signer,  yet  methinks  it  brings  its  wis- 
dom from  Italy ;  for  the  serpent-smile  is  your  countrymen's 
proper  distinction,  and  the  frown  ill  becomes  them." 

"  Sir  Knight,"  replied  Adrian,  sharply,  and  incensed  at  the 
taunt,  "  you  foreigners  have  taught  us  how  to  frown,  —  a 
virtue  sometimes." 

"  But  not  wisdom,  unless  the  hand  could  maintain  what  the 
brow  menaced,"  returned  Montreal  with  haughtiness ;  for  he 
had  much  of  the  Frank  vivacity,  which  often  overcame  his 
prudence ;  and  he  had  conceived  a  secret  pique  against  Adrian 
since  their  interview  at  Stephen's  palace. 

"  Sir  Knight,"  answered  Adrian,  coloring,  "  our  conversa- 
tion may  lead  to  warmer  words  than  I  would  desire  to  have 
with  one  who  has  rendered  me  so  gallant  a  service." 

"  Nay,  then,  let  us  go  back  to  the  troubadours,"  said  Mon- 
treal, indifferently.  "  Forgive  me  if  I  do  not  think  highly,  in 
general,  of  Italian  honor  or  Italian  valor.  Your  valor  I  ac- 
knowledge, for  I  have  witnessed  it,  and  valor  and  honor  go 
together;  let  that  suffice!" 

As  Adrian  was  about  to  answer,  his  eye  fell  suddenly  on 
the  burly  form  of  Cecco  del  Vecchio,  who  was  leaning  his  bare 
and  brawny  arms  over  his  anvil,  and  gazing  with  a  smile  upon 
the  group.  There  was  something  in  that  smile  which  turned 
the  current  of  Adrian's  thoughts,  and  which  he  could  not  con- 
template without  an  unaccountable  misgiving. 

"  A  strong  villain  that,"  said  Montreal,  also  eying  the  smith. 
"  I  should  like  to  enlist  him.  Fellow  !  "  cried  he,  aloud,  "  you 
have  an  arm  that  were  as  fit  to  wield  the  sword  as  to  fashion 
it.  Desert  your  anvil,  and  follow  the  fortunes  of  Fra  Moreale ! " 

The  smith  nodded  his  head.  "Signer  Cavalier,"  said  he, 
gravely,  "we  poor  men  have  no  passion  for  war.  We  want 
not  to  kill  others,  we  desire  only  ourselves  to  live,  —  if  you 
will  let  us!" 


188  RIENZI : 

"  By  the  Holy  Mother,  a  slavish  answer !  But  you 
Romans  —  " 

« Are  slaves  I "  interrupted  the  smith,  turning  away  to  the 
interior  of  his  forge. 

"The  dog  is  mutinous !  "  said  the  old  Colonna.  And  as  the 
band  swept  on,  the  rude  foreigners,  encouraged  by  their 
leaders,  had  each  some  taunt  or  jest,  uttered  in  a  barbarous 
attempt  at  the  Southern  patois,  for  the  lazy  giant,  as  he  again 
appeared  in  front  of  his  forge,  leaning  on  his  anvil  as  before, 
and  betraying  no  sign  of  attention  to  his  insulters,  save  by 
a  heightened  glow  of  his  swarthy  visage ;  and  so  the  gallant 
procession  passed  through  the  streets,  and  quitted  the  Eternal 
City. 

There  was  a  long  interval  of  deep  silence,  of  general  calm, 
throughout  the  whole  of  Rome ;  the  shops  were  still  but  half- 
opened,  no  man  betook  himself  to  his  business;  it  was  like 
the  commencement  of  some  holiday,  when  indolence  precedes 
enjoyment. 

About  noon  a  few  small  knots  of  men  might  be  seen  scat- 
tered about  the  streets,  whispering  to  each  other,  but  soon  dis- 
persing ;  and  every  now  and  then  a  single  passenger,  generally 
habited  in  the  long  robes  used  by  the  men  of  letters,  or  in  the 
more  sombre  garb  of  monks,  passed  hurriedly  up  the  street 
towards  the  Church  of  St.  Mary  of  Egypt,  once  the  Temple  of 
Fortune.  Then  again  all  was  solitary  and  deserted.  Suddenly 
there  was  heard  the  sound  of  a  single  trumpet  f  It  swelled,  it 
gathered  on  the  ear.  Cecco  del  Vecchio  looked  up  from  his 
anvil!  A  solitary  horseman  paced  slowly  by  the  forge,  and 
wound  a  long  loud  blast  of  the  trumpet  suspended  round  his 
neck  as  he  passed  through  the  middle  of  the  street.  Then 
might  you  see  a  crowd  suddenly,  and  as  by  magic,  appear 
emerging  from  every  corner ;  the  street  became  thronged  with 
multitudes :  but  it  was  only  by  the  tramp  of  their  feet  and  an 
indistinct  and  low  murmur  that  they  broke  the  silence.  Again 
the  horseman  wound  his  trump,  and  when  the  note  ceased  he 
cried  aloud :  "  Friends  and  Romans !  to-morrow,  at  dawn  of 
day,  let  each  man  find  himself  unarmed  before  the  Church  of 
St.  Angelo.  Cola  di  Rienzi  convenes  the  Romans  to  provide 


THE   LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  139 

for  the  good  state  of  Home."  A  shout,  that  seemed  to  shake 
the  bases  of  the  seven  hills,  broke  forth  at  the  end  of  this 
brief  exhortation ;  the  horseman  rode  slowly  on,  and  the  crowd 
followed.  This  was  the  commencement  of  the  Revolution. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   CONSPIRATOR   BECOMES    THE    MAGISTRATE. 

AT  midnight,  when  the  rest  of  the  city  seemed  hushed  in 
rest,  lights  were  streaming  from  the  windows  of  the  Church 
of  St.  Angelo.  Breaking  from  its  echoing  aisles,  the  long  and 
solemn  notes  of  sacred  music  stole  at  frequent  intervals  upon 
the  air.  Rienzi  was  praying  within  the  church ;  thirty  masses 
consumed  the  hours  from  night  till  morn,  and  all  the  sanction 
of  religion  was  invoked  to  consecrate  the  enterprise  of  liberty.1 
The  sun  had  long  risen,  and  the  crowd  had  long  been  as- 
sembled before  the  church  door  and  in  vast  streams  along 
every  street  that  led  to  it,  when  the  bell  of  the  church  tolled 
out  long  and  merrily;  and  as  it  ceased,  the  voices  of  the 
choristers  within  chanted  the  following  hymn,  in  which  were 
somewhat  strikingly,  though  barbarously,  blended  the  spirit  of 
the  classic  patriotism  with  the  fervor  of  religious  zeal :  - — 

THE  ROMAN  HYMN  OF  LIBERTY. 

Let  the  mountains  exult  around  ! 2 
On  her  seven-hill'd  throne  renown'd, 
Once  more  old  Rome  is  crown'd  ! 
Jubilate  ! 

1  In  fact,  I  apprehend  that  if  ever  the  life  of  Cola  di  Rienzi  shall  be  written 
by  a  hand  worthy  of  the  task,  it  will  be  shown  that  a  strong  religious  feeling 
was  blended  with  the  political  enthusiasm  of  the  people,  —  the  religious  feeling  of 
a  premature  and  crude  reformation,  the  legacy  of  Arnold  of  Brescia.    It  was 
not,  however,  one  excited  against  the  priests,  but  favored  by  them.    The 
principal  conventual  orders  declared  for  the  Revolution. 

2  "  Exultent  in  circuito  vestro  montes,"  etc.    Let  the  mountains  exult 
around !   So  begins  Rienzi's  letter  to  the  Senate  and  Roman  people  ;  preserved 
by  Hocsemius. 


140  RIENZI: 

Sing  ont,  O  Vale  and  Wave  I 
Look  np  from  each  laurell'd  grave, 
Bright  dust  of  the  deathless  brave  1 
Jubilate  1 

Pale  Vision,  what  art  thou  1    Lo, 
From  Time's  dark  deeps, 
Like  a  wind,  It  sweeps, 
Like  a  Wind,  when  the  tempests  blow ; 

A  shadowy  form,  as  a  giant  ghost, 
It  stands  in  the  midst  of  the  armed  host ! 
The  dead  man's  shroud  on  Its  awful  limbs, 
And  the  gloom  of  Its  presence  the  daylight  dims, 
And  the  trembling  world  looks  on  aghast : 
All  hail  to  the  SODL  OF  THE  MIGHTY  PAST  ! 

Hail !  all  hail ! 

As  we  speak,  as  we  hallow,  It  moves,  It  breathes ; 
From  its  clouded  crest  bud  the  laurel-wreaths ; 
As  a  Sun  that  leaps  up  from  the  arms  of  Night, 
The  shadow  takes  shape,  and  the  gloom  takes  light 

Hail !  all  hail ! 

THE  SOUL  OF  THE  PAST  again 

To  its  ancient  home, 

In  the  hearts  of  Rome, 
Hath  come  to  resume  its  reign ! 

O  Fame,  with  a  prophet's  voice, 

Bid  the  ends  of  the  Earth  rejoice  ! 

Wherever  the  Proud  are  Strong, 

And  Right  is  oppress'd  by  Wrong ; 

Wherever  the  day  dim  shines 

Through  the  cell  where  the  captive  pines, 

Go  forth,  with  a  trumpet's  sound, 

And  tell  to  the  Nations  round  — 

On  the  Hills  which  the  Heroes  trod, 

In  the  shrines  of  the  Saints  of  God, 

In  the  Caesars'  hall  and  the  Martyrs'  prison  — 

That  the  slumber  is  broke  and  the  Sleeper  arisen ; 

That  the  reign  of  the  Goth  and  the  Vandal  is  o'er ; 

And  Earth  feels  the  tread  of  THE  ROMAN  once  more ! 

As  the  hymn  ended,  the  gate  of  the  church  opened,  the 
crowd  gave  way  on  either  side,  and,  preceded  by  three  of  the 
young  nobles  of  the  inferior  order,  bearing  standards  of  allego- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  141 

rical  design  depicting  the  triumph  of  Liberty,  Justice,  and 
Concord,  forth  issued  Rienzi,  clad  in  complete  armor,  the 
helmet  alone  excepted.  His  face  was  pale  with  watching  and 
intense  excitement,  but  stern,  grave,  and  solemnly  composed ; 
and  its  expression  so  repelled  any  vociferous  and  vulgar  burst 
of  feeling  that  those  who  beheld  it  hushed  the  shout  on  their 
lips,  and  stilled,  by  a  simultaneous  cry  of  reproof,  the  gratu- 
lations  of  the  crowd  behind.  Side  by  side  with  Rienzi  moved 
Raimond,  Bishop  of  Orvietto;  and  behind,  marching  two  by 
two,  followed  a  hundred  men-at-arms.  In  complete  silence 
the  procession  began  its  way  until,  as  it  approached  the  Capi- 
tol, the  awe  of  the  crowd  gradually  vanished,  and  thousands 
upon  thousands  of  voices  rent  the  air  with  shouts  of  exultation 
and  joy. 

Arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  great  staircase  which  then  made 
the  principal  ascent  to  the  square  of  the  Capitol,  the  proces- 
sion halted ;  and  as  the  crowd  filled  up  that  vast  space  in  front 
—  adorned  and  hallowed  by  many  of  the  most  majestic  columns 
of  the  temples  of  old  —  Rienzi  addressed  the  Populace,  whom 
he  had  suddenly  elevated  into  a  People. 

He  depicted  forcibly  the  servitude  and  misery  of  the  citi- 
zens, the  utter  absence  of  all  law,  the  want  even  of  common 
security  to  life  and  property.  He  declared  that,  undaunted 
by  the  peril  he  incurred,  he  devoted  his  life  to  the  regenera- 
tion of  their  common  country;  and  he  solemnly  appealed  to 
the  people  to  assist  the  enterprise,  and  at  once  to  sanction 
and  consolidate  the  Revolution  by  an  established  code  of  law 
and  a  Constitutional  Assembly.  He  then  ordered  the  chart  and 
outline  of  the  Constitution  he  proposed,  to  be  read  by  the 
Herald  to  the  multitude. 

It  created  —  or  rather  revived,  with  new  privileges  and 
powers  —  a  Representative  Assembly  of  Councillors.  It  pro- 
claimed, as  its  first  law,  one  that  seems  simple  enough  to  our 
happier  times,  but  never  hitherto  executed  at  Rome :  Every 
wilful  homicide,  of  whatever  rank,  was  to  be  punished  by 
death.  It  enacted  that  no  private  noble  or  citizen  should  be 
suffered  to  maintain  fortifications  and  garrisons  in  the  city  or 
the  country ;  that  the  gates  and  bridges  of  the  State  should  be 


142  RIENZI: 

under  the  control  of  whomsoever  should  be  elected  Chief 
Magistrate.  It  forbade  all  harbor  of  brigands,  mercenaries, 
and  robbers,  on  payment  of  a  thousand  marks  of  silver ;  and 
it  made  the  Barons  who  possessed  the  neighboring  territories 
responsible  for  the  safety  of  the  roads  and  the  transport  of 
merchandise.  It  took  under  the  protection  of  the  State  the 
widow  and  the  orphan.  It  appointed,  in  each  of  the  quarters  of 
the  city,  an  armed  militia,  whom  the  tolling  of  the  bell  of  the 
Capitol,  at  any  hour,  was  to  assemble  to  the  protection  of  the 
State.  It  ordained  that  in  each  harbor  of  the  coast  a  vessel 
should  be  stationed  for  the  safeguard  of  commerce.  It  decreed 
the  sum  of  one  hundred  florins  to  the  heirs  of  every  man  who 
died  in  the  defence  of  Kome ;  and  it  devoted  the  public 
revenues  to  the  service  and  protection  of  the  State. 

Such,  moderate  at  once  and  effectual,  was  the  outline  of  the 
New  Constitution ;  and  it  may  amuse  the  reader  to  consider 
how  great  must  have  been  the  previous  disorders  of  the  city 
when  the  common  and  elementary  provisions  of  civilization  and 
security  made  the  character  of  the  code  proposed,  and  the  limit 
of  a  popular  revolution. 

The  most  rapturous  shouts  followed  this  sketch  of  the  New 
Constitution,  and  amidst  the  clamor  up  rose  the  huge  form  of 
Cecco  del  Vecchio.  Despite  his  condition,  he  was  a  man  of 
great  importance  at  the  present  crisis  :  his  zeal  and  his  courage, 
and,  perhaps,  still  more,  his  brute  passion  and  stubborn  preju- 
dice, had  made  him  popular.  The  lower  order  of  mechanics 
looked  to  him  as  their  head  and  representative ;  out,  then,  he 
spake  loud  and  fearlessly,  speaking  well,  because  his  'rnind  was 
full  of  what  he  had  to  say. 

"  Countrymen  and  Citizens  !  This  New  Constitution  meets 
with  your  approbation,  —  so  it  ought.  But  what  are  good  laws 
if  we  do  not  have  good  men  to  execute  them  ?  Who  can 
execute  a  law  so  well  as  the  man  who  designs  it  ?  If  you  ask 
me  to  give  you  a  notion,  how  to  make  a  good  shield,  and  my 
notion  pleases  you,  would  you  ask  me,  or  another  smith,  to 
make  it  for  you  ?  If  you  ask  another,  he  may  make  a  good 
shield,  but  it  would  not  be  the  same  as  that  which  I  should 
have  made/and  the  description  of  which  contented  you.  Cola 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  143 

di  Bienzi  has  proposed  a  Code  of  Law  that  shall  be  our  shield. 
Who  should  see  that  the  shield  become  what  he  proposes,  but 
Cola  di  Rienzi  ?  Romans,  I  suggest  that  Cola  di  Rienzi  be 
intrusted  by  the  people  with  the  authority,  by  whatsoever 
name  he  pleases,  of  carrying  the  New  Constitution  into  effect ; 
and  whatever  be  the  means,  we,  the  People,  will  bear  him 
harmless." 

"  Long  life  to  Rienzi !  Long  live  Cecco  del  Vecchio  !  He 
hath  spoken  well!  None  but  the  Law-maker  shall  be  the 
Governor ! " 

Such  were  the  acclamations  which  greeted  the  ambitious 
heart  of  the  Scholar.  The  voice  of  the  people  invested  him 
with  the  supreme  power.  He  had  created  a  Commonwealth, 
to  become,  if  he  desired  it,  a  Despot ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LOOKING   AFTER   THE    HALTER   WHEN   THE   MARE   IS    STOLEN. 

WHILE  such  were  the  events  at  Rome,  a  servitor  of  Stephen 
Colonna  was  already  on  his  way  to  Corneto.  The  astonishment 
with  which  the  old  Baron  received  the  intelligence  may  be 
easily  imagined.  He  lost  not  a  moment  in  convening  his  troop ; 
and  while  in  all  the  bustle  of  departure,  the  Knight  of  St.  John 
abruptly  entered  his  presence.  His  mien  had  lost  its  usual 
frank  composure. 

" How  is  this,"  said  he,  hastily,  —  "a  revolt  ?  Rienzi  sov- 
ereign of  Rome  ?  Can  the  news  be  believed  ?  " 

"  It  is  too  true !  "  said  Colonna,  with  a  bitter  smile.  "  Where 
shall  we  hang  him  on  our  return  ?  " 

"  Talk  not  so  wildly,  Sir  Baron,"  replied  Montreal,  discour- 
teously ;  "  Rienzi  is  stronger  than  you  think  for.  I  know  what 
men  are,  and  you  only  know  what  noblemen  are !  Where  is 
your  kinsman,  Adrian  ?  " 


144  RIENZI: 

"  He  is  here,  noble  Montreal,"  said  Stephen,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  with  a  half-disdainful  smile  at  the  rebuke,  which  he 
thought  it  more  prudent  not  to  resent ;  "  he  is  here  !  See  him 
enter ! " 

"  You  have  heard  the  news  ?  "  exclaimed  Montreal. 

« I  have." 

"  And  despise  the  revolution  ?  " 

« I  fear  it !  " 

"  Then  you  have  some  sense  in  you.  But  this  is  none  of 
my  atTa ir ;  I  will  not  interrupt  your  consultations.  Adieu  for 
the  present ! "  and  ere  Stephen  could  prevent  him,  the  Knight 
had  quitted  the  cnamber. 

"  What  means  this  demagogue  ?  "  Montreal  muttered  to  him- 
self. "  Would  he  trick  me  ?  Has  he  got  rid  of  my  presence 
in  order  to  monopolize  all  the  profit  of  the  enterprise  ?  I  fear 
me  so, — the  cunning  Roman!  We  Northern  warriors  could 
never  compete  with  the  intellect  of  these  Italians  but  for  their 
cowardice.  But  what  shall  be  done  ?  I  have  already  bid  Ro- 
dolf  communicate  with  the  brigands,  and  they  are  on  the  eve 
of  departure  from  their  present  lord.  Well,  let  it  be  so ! 
Better  that  I  should  first  break  the  power  of  the  Barons,  and 
then  make  my  own  terms,  sword  in  hand,  with  the  plebeian. 
And  if  I  fail  in  this,  sweet  Adeline,  I  shall  see  thee  again, 
—  that  is  some  comfort,  — and  Louis  of  Hungary  will  bid  high 
for  the  arm  and  brain  of  Walter  de  Montreal !  What,  ho,  Ro- 
dolf ! "  he  exclaimed  aloud,  as  the  sturdy  form  of  the  trooper, 
half  armed  and  half  intoxicated,  reeled  along  the  courtyard. 
"  Knave  !  art  thou  drunk  at  this  hour  ?  " 

"  Drunk  or  sober,"  answered  Rodolf,  bending  low,  "  I  am  at 
thy  bidding." 

"  Well  said !     Are  thy  friends  ripe  for  the  saddle  ?  " 

"  Eighty  of  them,  already  tired  of  idleness  and  the  dull  air 
of  Rome,  will  fly  wherever  Sir  Walter  de  Montreal  wishes." 

"  Hasten,  then,  bid  them  mount ;  we  go  not  hence  with  the 
Colonna,  we  leave  while  they  are  yet  talking  !  Bid  my  squires 
attend  me!" 

And  when  Stephen  Colonna  was  settling  himself  on  his 
palfrey,  he  heard,  for  the  first  time,  that  the  Knight  of  Pro- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  145 

vence,  Eodolf  the  trooper,  and  eighty  of  the  stipendiaries  had 
already  departed,  —  whither,  none  knew. 

"  To  precede  us  to  Rome,  gallant  barbarian ! "  said  Colonna. 
"Sirs,  on!" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  ATTACK THE  RETREAT  —  THE  ELECTION AND 

THE  ADHESION. 

ARRIVING  at  Rome,  the  company  of  the  Colonna  found  the 
gates  barred  and  the  walls  manned.  Stephen  bade  advance  his 
trumpeters,  with  one  of  his  captains,  imperiously  to  demand 
admittance. 

"  We  have  orders,"  replied  the  chief  of  the  town-guard,  "  to 
admit  none  who  bear  arms,  flags,  or  trumpets.  Let  the  Lords 
Colonna  dismiss  their  train,  and  they  are  welcome." 

"  Whose  are  these  insolent  mandates  ?  "  asked  the  captain. 

"  Those  of  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Orvietto  and  Cola  di  Rienzi, 
joint  protectors  of  the  Buono  Stato."  1 

The  captain  of  the  Colonna  returned  to  his  chief  with  these 
tidings.  The  rage  of  Stephen  was  indescribable.  "  Go  back," 
he  cried,  as  soon  as  he  could  summon  voice,  "  and  say  that  if 
the  gates  are  not  forthwith  opened  to  me  and  mine,  the  blood 
of  the  plebeians  be  on  their  own  head.  As  for  Raimond,  Vicars 
of  the  Pope  have  high  spiritual  authority,  none  temporal.  Let 
him  prescribe  a  fast,  and  he  shall  be  obeyed ;  but  for  the  rash 
Rienzi,  say  that  Stephen  Colonna  will  seek  him  in  the  Capitol 
to-morrow,  for  the  purpose  of  throwing  him  out  of  the  highest 
window." 

These  messages  the  envoy  failed  not  to  deliver. 

The  captain  of  the  Romans  was  equally  stern  in  his  reply. 

"  Declare  to  your  lord,"  said  he,  "  that  Rome  holds  him  and 
his  as  rebels  and  traitors,  and  that  the  moment  you  regain  your 

1  Good  Estate. 
VOL.  i.  —  10 


146  RIENZI : 

troop,  our  archers  receive  our  command  to  draw  their  bows  — 
in  the  name  of  the  Pope,  the  City,  and  the  Liberator." 

This  threat  was  executed  to  the  letter ;  and  ere  the  old  Baron 
had  time  to  draw  up  his  men  in  the  best  array,  the  gates  were 
thrown  open,  and  a  well-armed,  if  undisciplined,  multitude 
poured  forth,  with  fierce  shouts,  clashing  their  arms,  and  ad- 
vancing the  azure  banners  of  the  Koman  State.  So  desperate 
their  charge  and  so  great  their  numbers  that  the  Barons,  after 
a  short  and  tumultuous  conflict,  were  driven  back,  and  chased 
by  their  pursuers  for  more  than  a  mile  from  the  walls  of  the 
city. 

As  soon  as  the  Barons  recovered  their  disorder  and  dismay, 
a  hasty  council  was  held,  at  which  various  and  contradictory 
opinions  were  loudly  urged.  Some  were  for  departing  on  the 
instant  to  Palestrina,  which  belonged  to  the  Colonna,  and 
possessed  an  almost  inaccessible  fortress.  Others  were  for 
dispersing,  and  entering  peaceably  and  in  detached  parties 
through  the  other  gates.  Stephen  Colonna  —  himself  incensed 
and  disturbed  from  his  usual  self-command  —  was  unable  to 
preserve  his  authority;  Luca  di  Savelli,  l  a  timid,  though 
treacherous  and  subtle  man,  already  turned  his  horse's  head, 
and  summoned  his  men  to  follow  him  to  his  castle  in  Romagna, 
when  the  old  Colonna  bethought  himself  of  a  method  by  which 
to  keep  his  band  from  a  disunion  that  he  had  the  sense  to 
perceive  would  prove  fatal  to  the  common  cause.  He  proposed 
that  they  should  at  once  repair  to  Palestrina,  and  there  fortify 
themselves,  while  one  of  the  chiefs  should  be  selected  to  enter 
Rome  alone,  and  apparently  submissive,  to  examine  the  strength 
of  Rienzi,  and  with  the  discretionary  power  to  resist  if  possible, 
or  to  make  the  best  terms  he  could  for  the  admission  of  the 
rest. 

"  And  who,"  asked  Savelli,  sneeringly,  "  will  undertake  this 
dangerous  mission?  Who,  unarmed  and  alone,  will  expose 
himself  to  the  rage  of  the  fiercest  populace  of  Italy,  and  the 
caprice  of  a  demagogue  in  the  first  flush  of  his  power  ?  " 

1  The  more  correct  orthography  were  Luca  di  Savello,  but  the  one  in  the 
text  is  preserved,  as  more  familiar  to  the  English  reader. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  147 

The  Barons  and  the  Captains  looked  at  each  other  in  silence. 
Savelli  laughed. 

Hitherto  Adrian  had  taken  no  part  in  the  conference,  and 
but  little  in  the  previous  contest.  He  now  came  to  the 
support  of  his  kinsman. 

"Signers!"  said  he,  "I  will  undertake  this  mission,  —  but 
on  mine  own  account,  independently  of  yours ;  free  to  act  as  I 
may  think  best  for  the  dignity  of  a  Eoman  noble  and  the 
interests  of  a  Roman  citizen;  free  to  raise  my  standard  on 
mine  own  tower,  or  to  yield  fealty  to  the  new  estate." 

"  Well  said !  "  cried  the  old  Colonna,  hastily.  "  Heaven  for- 
bid we  should  enter  Rome  as  foes,  if  to  enter  it  as  friends  be 
yet  allowed  us  !  What  say  ye,  gentles  ?  " 

"  A  more  worthy  choice  could  not  be  selected,"  said  Savelli ; 
"but  I  should  scarce  deem  it  possible  that  a  Colonna  could 
think  there  was  an  option  between  resistance  and  fealty  to  this 
upstart  revolution." 

"Of  that,  Signor,  I  will  judge  for  myself;  if  you  demand 
an  agent  for  yourselves,  choose  another.  I  announce  to  ye 
frankly,  that  I  have  seen  enough  of  other  states  to  think  the 
recent  condition  of  Rome  demanded  some  redress.  Whether 
Rienzi  and  Raimond  be  worthy  of  the  task  they  have  assumed, 
I  know  not." 

Savelli  was  silent.     The  old  Colonna  seized  the  word. 

"  To  Palestrina,  then !  Are  ye  all  agreed  on  this  ?  At  the 
worst,  or  at  the  best,  we  should  not  be  divided.  On  this 
condition  alone  I  hazard  the  safety  of  my  kinsman ! " 

The  Barons  murmured  a  little  among  themselves ;  the  expe- 
diency of  Stephen's  proposition  was  evident,  and  they  at  length 
assented  to  it. 

Adrian  saw  them  depart,  and  then,  attended  only  by  his 
squire,  slowly  rode  towards  a  more  distant  entrance  into  the 
city.  On  arriving  at  the  gates,  his  name  was  demanded ;  he 
gave  it  freely. 

"Enter,  my  lord,"  said  the  warder;  "our  orders  were  to 
admit  all  that  came  unarmed  and  unattended.  But  to  the  Lord 
Adrian  di  Castello,  alone,  we  had  a  special  injunction  to  give 
the  honors  due  to  a  citizen  and  a  friend." 


MS  RIENZI: 

Adrian,  a  little  touched  by  this  implied  recollection  of  friend- 
ship, now  rode  through  a  long  line  of  armed  citizens,  who 
saluted  him  respectfully  as  he  passed,  and  as  he  returned  the 
salutation  with  courtesy,  a  loud  and  approving  shout  followed 
his  horse's  steps. 

So,  save  by  one  attendant  alone,  and  in  peace,  the  young 
patrician  proceeded  leisurely  through  the  long  streets,  empty 
and  deserted,  —  for  nearly  one  half  of  the  inhabitants  were 
assembled  at  the  walls,  and  nearly  the  other  half  were  engaged 
in  a  more  peaceful  duty,  —  until,  penetrating  the  interior,  the 
wide  and  elevated  space  of  the  Capitol  broke  upon  his  sight. 
The  sun  was  slowly  setting  over  an  immense  multitude  that 
overspread  the  spot,  and  high  above  a  scaffold  raised  in  the 
centre  shone,  to  the  western  ray,  the  great  Gonfalon  of  Rome, 
studded  with  silver  stars. 

Adrian  reined  in  his  steed.  "  This,"  thought  he,  "  is  scarcely 
the  hour  thus  publicly  to  confer  with  Kienzi ;  yet  fain  would 
I,  mingled  with  the  crowd,  judge  how  far  his  power  is  sup- 
ported, and  in  what  manner  it  is  borne."  Musing  a  little,  he 
withdrew  into  one  of  the  obscurer  streets,  then  wholly  deserted, 
surrendered  his  horse  to  his  squire,  and  borrowing  of  the  latter 
his  morion  and  long  mantle,  passed  to  one  of  the  more  private 
entrances  of  the  Capitol,  and,  enveloped  in  his  cloak,  stood  — 
one  of  the  crowd  —  intent  upon  all  that  followed. 

"  And  what,"  he  asked  of  a  plainly  dressed  citizen,  "  is  the 
cause  of  this  assembly  ?  " 

"  Heard  you  not  the  proclamation  ?  "  returned  the  other  in 
some  surprise.  "Do  you  not  know  that  the  Council  of  the 
City  and  the  Guilds  of  the  Artisans  have  passed  a  vote  to 
proffer  to  Eienzi  the  title  of  king  of  Eome  ? " 

The  Knight  of  the  Emperor,  to  whom  belonged  that  august 
dignity,  drew  back  in  dismay. 

"  And,"  resumed  the  citizen,  "  this  assembly  of  all  the  lesser 
Barons,  Councillors,  and  Artificers,  is  convened  to  hear  the 
answer." 

"  Of  course  it  will  be  assent  ?  " 

"I  know  not,  —  there  are  strange  rumors;  hitherto  the 
Liberator  has  concealed  his  sentiments." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  149 

At  that  instant  a  loud  flourish  of  martial  music  announced 
the  approach  of  Eienzi.  The  crowd  tumultuously  divided, 
and  presently,  from  the  Palace  of  the  Capitol  to  the  scaffold, 
passed  Eienzi,  still  in  complete  armor  save  the  helmet,  and 
with  him,  in  all  the  pomp  of  his  episcopal  robes,  Eaimond  of 
Orvietto. 

As  soon  as  Eienzi  had  ascended  the  platform,  and  was  thus 
made  visible  to  the  whole  concourse,  no  words  can  suffice  to 
paint  the  enthusiasm  of  the  scene,  —  the  shouts,  the  gestures, 
the  tears,  the  sobs,  the  wild  laughter,  in  which  the  sympathy 
of  those  lively  and  susceptible  children  of  the  South  broke 
forth.  The  windows  and  balconies  of  the  Palace  were  thronged 
with  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  lesser  Barons  and  more 
opulent  citizens ;  and  Adrian,  with  a  slight  start,  beheld  amongst 
them,  pale,  agitated,  tearful,  the  lovely  face  of  his  Irene,  —  a 
face  that  even  thus  would  have  outshone  all  present,  but  for 
one  by  her  side,  whose  beauty  the  emotion  of  the  hour  only 
served  to  embellish.  The  dark,  large,  and  flashing  eyes  of  Nina 
di  Easelli,  just  bedewed,  were  fixed  proudly  on  the  hero  of  her 
choice  ;  and  pride,  even  more  than  joy,  gave  a  richer  carnation 
to  her  cheek,  and  the  presence  of  a  queen  to  her  noble  and 
rounded  form.  The  setting  sun  poured  its  full  glory  over  the 
spot,  —  the  bared  heads,  the  animated  faces  of  the  crowd,  the 
gray  and  vast  mass  of  the  Capitol ;  and  not  far  from  the  side 
of  Eienzi,  it  brought  into  a  strange  and  startling  light  the 
sculptured  form  of  a  colossal  Lion  of  Basalt,1  which  gave  its 
name  to  a  staircase  leading  to  the  Capitol.  It  was  an  old 
Egyptian  relic,  —  vast,  worn,  and  grim ;  some  symbol  of  a 
vanished  creed,  to  whose  face  the  sculptor  had  imparted  some- 
thing of  the  aspect  of  the  human  countenance.  And  this  pro- 
ducing the  effect  probably  sought,  gave  at  all  times  a  mystic, 
preternatural,  and  fearful  expression  to  the  stern  features,  and 

1  The  existent  Capitol  is  very  different  from  the  building  at  the  time  of 
Rienzi ;  and  the  reader  must  not  suppose  that  the  present  staircase,  designed 
by  Michael  Angelo,  at  the  base  of  which  are  two  marble  lions,  removed  by 
Pins  IV.  from  the  Church  of  St.  Stephen  del  Cacco,  was  the  staircase  of  the 
Lion  of  Basalt,  which  bears  so  stern  a  connection  with  the  history  of  RienzL 
That  mute  witness  of  dark  deeds  is  no  more. 


150  RIENZI : 

to  that  solemn  and  hushed  repose  which  is  so  peculiarly  the 
secret  of  Egyptian  sculpture.  The  awe  which  this  colossal 
and  frowning  image  was  calculated  to  convey  was  felt  yet 
more  deeply  by  the  vulgar,  because  "  the  Staircase  of  the  Lion  " 
was  the  wonted  place  of  the  state  executions,  as  of  the  state 
ceremonies.  And  seldom  did  the  stoutest  citizen  forget  to 
cross  himself,  or  feel  unchilled  with  a  certain  terror,  whenever, 
passing  by  the  place,  he  caught,  suddenly  fixed  upon  him,  the 
stony  gaze  and  ominous  grin  of  that  old  monster  from  the 
cities  of  the  Nile. 

It  was  some  minutes  before  the  feelings  of  the  assembly 
allowed  Rienzi  to  be  heard.  But  when,  at  length,  the  last 
shout  closed  with  a  simultaneous  cry  of  "Long  live  Rienzi, 
Deliverer  and  King  of  Rome  ! "  he  raised  his  hand  impatiently, 
and  the  curiosity  of  the  crowd  procured  a  sudden  silence. 

"  Deliverer  of  Rome,  my  countrymen ! "  said  he.  "  Yes,  — 
change  not  that  title ;  I  am  too  ambitious  to  be  a  King !  Pre- 
serve your  obedience  to  your  Pontiff,  your  allegiance  to  your 
Emperor,  but  be  faithful  to  your  own  liberties.  Ye  have  a 
right  to  your  ancient  constitution ;  but  that  constitution  needed 
not  a  king.  Emulous  of  the  name  of  Brutus,  I  am  above  the 
titles  of  a  Tarquin.  Romans,  awake !  awake !  be  inspired 
with  a  nobler  love  of  liberty  than  that  which,  if  it  dethrones 
the  tyrant  of  to-day,  would  madly  risk  the  danger  of  tyranny 
for  to-morrow  !  Rome  wants  still  a  liberator,  never  a  usurper. 
Take  away  yon  bauble ! " 

There  was  a  pause;  the  crowd  were  deeply  affected  —  but 
they  uttered  no  shouts ;  they  looked  anxiously  for  a  reply 
from  their  councillors,  or  popular  leaders. 

"Signer,"  said  Pandulfo  di  Guido,  who  was  one  of  the 
Caporioni,  "  your  answer  is  worthy  of  your  fame ;  but  in  order 
to  enforce  the  law,  Rome  must  endow  you  with  a  legal  title :  if 
not  that  of  King,  deign  to  accept  that  of  Dictator  or  of 
Consul." 

"  Long  live  the  Consul  Rienzi ! "  cried  several  voices. 

Rienzi  waved  his  hand  for  silence. 

"  Pandulfo  di  Guido,  and  you,  honored  Councillors  of  Rome, 
such  title  is  at  once  too  august  for  my  merits,  and  too  inappli- 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  151 

cable  to  my  functions !  I  am  one  of  the  people :  the  people 
are  my  charge;  the  nobles  can  protect  themselves.  Dictator 
and  Consul  are  the  appellations  of  patricians.  No,"  he  con- 
tinued, after  a  short  pause,  "  if  you  deem  it  necessary,  for  the 
preservation  of  order,  that  your  fellow-citizen  should  be  in- 
trusted with  a  formal  title  and  a  recognized  power,  be  it  so  ; 
but  let  it  be  such  as  may  attest  the  nature  of  our  new  institu- 
tions, the  wisdom  of  the  people,  and  the  moderation  of  their 
leaders.  Once,  my  countrymen,  the  people  elected,  for  the 
protectors  of  their  rights  and  the  guardians  of  their  freedom, 
certain  officers  responsible  to  the  people,  —  chosen  from  the 
people,  provident  for  the  people.  Their  power  was  great,  but 
it  was  delegated :  a  dignity,  but  a  trust.  The  name  of  these 
officers  was  that  of  Tribune.  Such  is  the  title  that  conceded, 
not  by  clamor  alone,  but  in  the  full  Parliament  of  the  people, 
and  accompanied  by  such  Parliament,  ruling  with  such  Parlia- 
ment, —  such  is  the  title  I  will  gratefully  accept." 1 

The  speech,  the  sentiments  of  Kienzi  were  rendered  far\ 
more  impressive  by  a  manner  of  earnest  and  deep  sincerity; 
and  some  of  the  Romans,  despite  their  corruption,  felt  a 
momentary  exultation  in  the  forbearance  of  their  chief. 
"  Long  live  the  Tribune  of  Rome ! "  was  shouted ;  but  less 
loud  than  the  cry  of  "  Live  the  King ! "  And  the  vulgar 
almost  thought  the  revolution  was  incomplete,  because  the 
loftier  title  was  not  assumed.  To  a  degenerate  and  embruted 
people,  liberty  seems  too  plain  a  thing  if  unadorned  by  the 
pomp  of  the  very  despotism  they  would  dethrone.  Revenge 
is  their  desire,  rather  than  Release ;  and  the  greater  the  new 
power  they  create,  the  greater  seems  their  revenge  against  the 
old.  Still,  all  that  was  most  respected,  intelligent,  and  power- 
ful amongst  the  assembly  were  delighted  at  a  temperance 
which  they  foresaw  would  free  Rome  from  a  thousand  dangers, 

1  Gibbon  and  Sismondi  alike  (neither  of  whom  appears  to  have  consulted 
with  much  attention  the  original  documents  preserved  by  Hocsemius)  say 
nothing  of  the  Representative  Parliament,  which  it  was  almost  Rienzi's  first 
public  act  to  institute  or  model.  Six  days  from  the  memorable  19th  of  May 
he  addressed  the  people  of  Viterbo  in  a  letter  yet  extant.  He  summons  them 
to  elect  and  send  two  syndics,  or  ambassadors,  to  the  general  Parliament 


152  RIENZI : 

whether  from  the  Emperor  or  the  Pontiff.  And  their  delight 
was  yet  increased  when  Kienzi  added,  so  soon  as  returning 
silence  permitted  :  "  And  since  we  have  been  equal  laborers  in 
the  same  cause,  whatever  honors  be  awarded  to  me  should  be 
extended  also  to  the  Vicar  of  the  Pope,  Kaimond,  Lord  Bishop 
of  Orvietto.  Remember  that  both  Church  and  State  are  prop- 
erly the  rulers  of  the  people  only  because  their  benefactors. 
Long  live  the  first  Vicar  of  a  Pope  that  was  ever  also  the 
Liberator  of  a  State ! " 

Whether  or  not  Rienzi  was  only  actuated  by  patriotism  in 
his  moderation,  certain  it  is  that  his  sagacity  was  at  least 
equal  to  his  virtue  ;  and  perhaps  nothing  could  have  cemented 
the  revolution  more  strongly  than  thus  obtaining  for  a  colleague 
the  Vicar  and  Representative  of  the  Pontifical  power :  it  bor- 
rowed, for  the  time,  the  sanction  of  the  Pope  himself,  —  thus 
made  to  share  the  responsibility  of  the  revolution,  without 
monopolizing  the  power  of  the  State. 

While  the  crowd  hailed  the  proposition  of  Rienzi,  while 
their  shouts  yet  filled  the  air,  while  Raimond,  somewhat  taken 
by  surprise,  sought  by  signs  and  gestures  to  convey  at  once  his 
gratitude  and  his  humility,  the  Tribune-Elect,  casting  his  eyes 
around,  perceived  many  hitherto  attracted  by  curiosity,  and 
whom,  from  their  rank  and  weight,  it  was  desirable  to  secure 
in  the  first  heat  of  the  public  enthusiasm.  Accordingly,  as 
soon  as  Raimond  had  uttered  a  short  and  pompous  harangue,  — 
in  which  his  eager  acceptance  of  the  honor  proposed  him  was 
ludicrously  contrasted  by  his  embarrassed  desire  not  to  involve 
himself  or  the  Pope  in  any  untoward  consequences  that  might 
ensue,  —  Rienzi  motioned  to  two  heralds  that  stood  behind 
upon  the  platform ;  and  one  of  these,  advancing,  proclaimed  — 
"  That  as  it  was  desirable  that  all  hitherto  neuter  should  now 
profess  themselves  friends  or  foes,  so  they  were  invited  to  take 
at  once  the  oath  of  obedience  to  the  laws,  and  subscription  to 
the  Buono  Stato." 

So  great  was  the  popular  fervor,  and  so  much  had  it  been 
refined  and  deepened  in  its  tone  by  the  addresses  of  Rienzi, 
that  even  the  most  indifferent  had  caught  the  contagion,  and 
no  man  liked  to  be  seen  shrinking  from  the  rest ;  so  that  the 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  153 

most  neutral,  knowing  themselves  the  most  marked,  were  the 
most  entrapped  into  allegiance  to  the  Buono  Stato.  The  first 
who  advanced  to  the  platform  and  took  the  oath  was  the  Signor 
di  Easelli,  the  father  of  Nina.  Others  of  the  lesser  nobility 
followed  his  example. 

The  presence  of  the  Pope's  Vicar  induced  the  aristocratic ; 
the  fear  of  the  people  urged  the  selfish ;  the  encouragement  of 
shouts  and  gratulations  excited  the  vain.  The  space  between 
Adrian  and  Eienzi  was  made  clear.  The  young  noble  suddenly 
felt  the  eyes  of  the  Tribune  were  upon  him,  he  felt  that  those 
eyes  recognized  and  called  upon  him ;  he  colored ;  he  breathed 
short.  The  noble  forbearance  of  Rienzi  had  touched  him  to 
the  heart ;  the  applause,  the  pageant,  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
scene  intoxicated,  confused  him.  He  lifted  his  eyes,  and  saw 
before  him  the  sister  of  the  Tribune,  —  the  lady  of  his  love ! 
His  indecision,  his  pause,  continued,  when  Eaimond,  observ- 
ing him,  and  obedient  to  a  whisper  from  Eienzi,  artfully 
cried  aloud:  "Eoorn  for  the  Lord  Adrian  di  Castello!  A 
Colonna !  a  Colonna  ! "  Eetreat  was  cut  off.  Mechanically, 
and  as  if  in  a  dream,  Adrian  ascended  to  the  platform ;  and  to 
complete  the  triumph  of  the  Tribune,  the  sun's  last  ray  beheld 
the  flower  of  the  Colonna  —  the  best  and  bravest  of  the  Barons 
of  Eome  —  confessing  his  authority  and  subscribing  to  his 
laws ! 


BOOK  HI. 

THE  FREEDOM  WITHOUT  LAW. 

BBW  f uro  avventurosi  i  cavalieri 
Ch'  erano  a  quella  eta,  che  nei  valloni, 
Nelle  scure  spelonche  e  boschi  fieri, 
Tane  di  serpi,  d'  orsi  e  di  leoni, 
Trovavan  quel  che  nei  palazzi  altieri 
Appena  or  trovar  pon  giudici  buoni ; 
Donne  che  nella  lor  piu  fresca  etade 
Sien  degne  di  aver  titol  di  beltade. 

ABIOSTO,  Orl.  Fur.,  can.  xiii.  1. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   RETURN   OF   WALTER   DE   MONTREAL   TO    HIS   FORTRESS. 

WHEN  Walter  de  Montreal  and  his  mercenaries  quitted 
Corneto,  they  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  Some ;  arriving 
there  long  before  the  Barons,  they  met  with  a  similar  reception 
at  the  gates ;  but  Montreal  prudently  forbore  all  attack  and 
menace,  and  contented  himself  with  sending  his  trusty  Kodolf 
into  the  city  to  seek  Eienzi  and  to  crave  permission  to  enter 
with  his  troop.  Rodolf  returned  in  a  shorter  time  than  was 
anticipated.  "Well,"  said  Montreal,  impatiently,  "you  have 
the  order,  I  suppose.  Shall  we  bid  them  open  the  gates  ?  " 

"Bid  them  open  our  graves,"  replied  the  Saxon,  bluntly. 
"  I  trust  my  next  heraldry  will  be  to  a  more  friendly  court." 

"  How !  what  mean  you  ?  " 

"  Briefly  this :  I  found  the  new  governor,  or  whatever  his 
title,  in  the  palace  of  the  Capitol,  surrounded  by  guards  and 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  155 

councillors,  and  in  a  suit  of  the  finest  armor  I  ever  saw  out  of 
Milan." 

"  Pest  on  his  armor !  give  us  his  answer." 

"  '  Tell  Walter  de  Montreal,'  said  he,  then,  if  you  will  have 
it,  '  that  Rome  is  no  longer  a  den  of  thieves ;  tell  him  that  if 
he  enters  he  must  abide  a  trial  — ' ' 

"  A  trial ! "  cried  Montreal,  grinding  his  teeth. 

" '  For  participation  in  the  evil  doings  of  Werner  and  his 
freebooters.' " 

«Ha!" 

"  '  Tell  him,  moreover,  that  Rome  declares  war  against  all 
robbers,  whether  in  tent  or  tower,  and  that  we  order  him  in 
forty-eight  hours  to  quit  the  territories  of  the  Church.'  " 

"  He  thinks,  then,  not  only  to  deceive,  but  to  menace  me  ? 
Well,  proceed." 

"  That  was  all  his  reply  to  you ;  to  me,  however,  he  vouch- 
safed a  caution  still  more  obliging.  '  Hark  ye,  friend,'  said  he, 
'  for  every  German  bandit  found  in  Rome  after  to-morrow  our 
welcome  will  be  cord  and  gibbet !  Begone  ! ' " 

"  Enough,  enough ! "  cried  Montreal,  coloring  with  rage  and 
shame.  "  Rodolf,  you  have  a  skilful  eye  in  these  matters :  how 
many  Northmen  would  it  take  to  give  that  same  gibbet  to  the 
upstart  ?  " 

Rodolf  scratched  his  huge  head,  and  seemed  a  while  lost  in 
calculation ;  at  length  he  said,  "  You,  Captain,  must  be  the  best 
judge  when  I  tell  you  that  twenty  thousand  Romans  are  the 
least  of  his  force,  —  so  I  heard  by  the  way ;  and  this  evening 
he  is  to  accept  the  crown  and  depose  the  Emperor." 

"  Ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Montreal ;  "  is  he  so  mad  ?  Then  he 
will  want  not  our  aid  to  hang  himself.  My  friends,  let  us  wait 
the  result.  At  present  neither  barons  nor  people  seem  likely 
to  fill  our  coffers.  Let  us  across  the  country  to  Terracina. 
Thank  the  saints,"  and  Montreal  (who  was  not  without  a  strange 
kind  of  devotion,  —  indeed  he  deemed  that  virtue  essential  to 
chivalry)  crossed  himself  piously,  "  the  free  companions  are 
never  long  without  quarters ! " 

"  Hurrah  for  the  Knight  of  St.  John  ! "  cried  the  mercenaries. 

"  And  hurrah  for  fair  Provence  and  bold  Germany ! "  added 


156  RIENZI : 

the  Knight,  as  he  waved  his  hand  on  high,  struck  spurs  into 
his  already  wearied  horse,  and,  breaking  out  into  his  favorite 

MHi 

"His  barb,  and  his  sword, 

And  his  lady  the  peerless,"  etc., 

Montreal,  with  his  troop,  struck  gallantly  across  the  Campagna. 
The  Knight  of  St.  John  soon,  however,  fell  into  an  absorbed 
and  moody  revery,  and  his  followers  imitating  the  silence  of 
their  chief,  in  a  few  minutes  the  clatter  of  their  arms  and  the 
jingle  of  their  spurs  alone  disturbed  the  stillness  of  the  wide 
and  gloomy  plains  across  which  they  made  towards  Terracina. 
Montreal  was  recalling  with  bitter  resentment  his  conference 
with  Rienzi ;  and,  proud  of  his  own  sagacity  and  talent  for 
scheming,  he  was  humbled  and  vexed  at  the  discovery  that  he 
had  been  duped  by  a  wilier  intriguer.  His  ambitious  designs 
on  Rome,  too,  were  crossed,  and  even  crushed  for  the  moment 
by  the  very  means  to  which  he  had  looked  for  their  execution. 
He  had  seen  enough  of  the  Barons  to  feel  assured  that  while 
Stephen  Colonna  lived,  the  head  of  the  order,  he  was  not  likely 
to  obtain  that  mastery  in  the  state  which,  if  leagued  with  a  more 
ambitious  or  a  less  timid  and  less  potent  signor,  might  reward 
his  aid  in  expelling  Rienzi.  Under  all  circumstances  he  deemed 
it  advisable  to  remain  aloof.  Should  Rienzi  grow  strong,  Mon- 
treal might  make  the  advantageous  terms  he  desired  with  the 
Barons;  should  Rienzi's  power  decay,  his  pride,  necessarily 
humbled,  might  drive  him  to  seek  the  assistance  and  submit  to 
the  proposals  of  Montreal.  The  ambition  of  the  Provencal, 
though  vast  and  daring,  was  not  of  a  consistent  and  persevering 
nature.  Action  and  enterprise  were  dearer  to  him,  as  yet,  than 
the  rewards  which  they  proffered ;  and  if  baffled  in  one  quarter, 
he  turned  himself,  with  the  true  spirit  of  the  knight-errant,  to 
any  other  field  for  his  achievements.  Louis,  king  of  Hungary, 
stern,  warlike,  implacable,  seeking  vengeance  for  the  murder  of 
his  brother,  the  ill-fated  husband  of  Johanna  (the  beautiful  and 
guilty  Queen  of  Naples, — the  Mary  Stuart  of  Italy),  had  al- 
ready prepared  himself  to  subject  the  garden  of  Campania  to 
the  Hungarian  yoke.  Already  his  bastard  brother  had  entered 
Italy ;  already  some  of  the  Neapolitan  states  had  declared  in 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  157 

his  favor ;  already  promises  had  been  held  out  by  the  Northern 
monarch  to  the  scattered  Companies ;  and  already  those  fierce 
mercenaries  gathered  menacingly  round  the  frontiers  of  that 
Eden  of  Italy,  attracted,  as  vultures  to  the  carcass,  by  the  pre- 
paration of  war  and  the  hope  of  plunder.  Such  was  the  field 
to  which  the  bold  mind  of  Montreal  now  turned  its  thoughts ; 
and  his  soldiers  had  joyfully  conjectured  his  design  when  they 
had  heard  him  fix  Terracina  as  their  bourne.  Provident  of 
every  resource,  and  refining  his  audacious  and  unprincipled 
valor  by  a  sagacity  which  promised,  when  years  had  more 
matured  and  sobered  his  restless  chivalry,  to  rank  him  among 
the  most  dangerous  enemies  Italy  had  ever  known,  on  the  first 
sign  of  Louis's  warlike  intentions  Montreal  had  seized  and 
fortified  a  strong  castle  on  that  delicious  coast  beyond  Terracina 
by  which  lies  the  celebrated  pass  once  held  by  Fabius  against 
Hannibal,  and  which  Nature  has  so  favored,  for  war  as  for 
peace,  that  a  handful  of  armed  men  might  stop  the  march  of 
an  army.  The  possession  of  such  a  fortress  on  the  very  fron- 
tiers of  Naples  gave  Montreal  an  importance  of  which  he 
trusted  to  avail  himself  with  the  Hungarian  king ;  and  now, 
thwarted  in  his  more  grand  and  aspiring  projects  upon  Rome, 
his  sanguine,  active,  and  elastic  spirit  congratulated  itself  upon 
the  resource  it  had  secured. 

The  band  halted  at  nightfall  on  this  side  the  Pontine  Marshes, 
seizing  without  scruple  some  huts  and  sheds,  from  which  they 
ejected  the  miserable  tenants,  and  slaughtering  with  no  greater 
ceremony  the  swine,  cattle,  and  poultry  of  a  neighboring  farm. 
Shortly  after  sunrise  they  crossed  those  fatal  swamps,  which 
had  already  been  partially  drained  by  Boniface  VIII. ;  and 
Montreal,  refreshed  by  sleep,  reconciled  to  his  late  mortification 
by  the  advantages  opened  to  him  in  the  approaching  war  with 
Naples,  and  rejoicing  as  he  approached  a  home  which  held  one 
who  alone  divided  his  heart  with  ambition,  resumed  all  the 
gayety  which  belonged  to  his  Gallic  birth  and  his  reckless 
habits.  And  that  deadly  but  consecrated  road,  where  yet  may 
be  seen  the  labors  of  Augustus  in  the  canal  which  had 
witnessed  the  Voyage  so  humorously  described  by  Horace, 
echoed  with  the  loud  laughter  and  frequent  snatches  of  wild 


158  RIENZI : 

song  by  which  the  barbarian  robbers  enlivened  their  rapid 
march. 

It  was  noon  when  the  company  entered  upon  that  romantic 
pass  I  have  before  referred  to,  —  the  ancient  Lantulae.  High  to 
the  left  rose  steep  and  lofty  rocks,  then  covered  by  the  prodigal 
verdure  and  the  countless  flowers  of  the  closing  May ;  while  to 
the  right  the  sea,  gentle  as  a  lake  and  blue  as  heaven,  rippled 
musically  at  their  feet.  Montreal,  who  largely  possessed  the 
poetry  of  his  land,  which  is  so  eminently  allied  with  a  love  of 
Nature,  might  at  another  time  have  enjoyed  the  beauty  of  the 
scene ;  but  at  that  moment  less  external  and  more  household 
images  were  busy  within  him. 

Abruptly  ascending  where  a  winding  path  up  the  mountain 
offered  a  rough  and  painful  road  to  their  horses'  feet,  the  band 
at  length  arrived  before  a  strong  fortress  of  gray  stone,  whose 
towers  were  concealed  by  the  lofty  foliage  until  they  emerged 
sullenly  and  suddenly  from  the  laughing  verdure.  The  sound 
of  the  bugle,  the  pennon  of  the  Knight,  the  rapid  watchword, 
produced  a  loud  shout  of  welcome  from  a  score  or  two  of  grim 
soldiery  on  the  walls  ;  the  portcullis  was  raised,  and  Montreal, 
throwing  himself  hastily  from  his  panting  steed,  sprang  across 
the  threshold  of  a  jutting  porch  and  traversed  a  huge  hall,  when 
a  lady  —  young,  fair,  and  richly  dressed  —  met  him  with  a 
step  equally  swift,  and  fell  breathless  and  overjoyed  into  his 
arms. 

"My  Walter,  my  dear,  dear  Walter!  Welcome  —  ten  thou- 
sand welcomes ! " 

"  Adeline,  my  beautiful,  my  adored,  I  see  thee  again ! " 

Such  were  the  greetings  interchanged  as  Montreal  pressed 
his  lady  to  his  heart,  kissing  away  her  tears  and  lifting  her  face 
to  his,  while  he  gazed  on  its  delicate  bloom  with  all  the  wistful 
anxiety  of  affection  after  absence. 

"  Fairest,"  said  he,  tenderly,  "  thou  hast  pined,  thou  hast  lost 
roundness  and  color  since  we  parted !  Come,  come ;  thou  art 
too  gentle  or  too  foolish  for  a  soldier's  love ! " 

"  Ah,  Walter ! "  replied  Adeline,  clinging  to  him,  "  now  thou 
art  returned,  and  I  shall  be  well.  Thou  wilt  not  leave  me 
again  a  long,  long  time  ?  " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  159 

"  Sweet  one,  no ;  "  and  flinging  his  arm  round  her  waist,  the 
lovers  —  for,  alas  !  they  were  not  wedded  —  retired  to  the  more 
private  chambers  of  the  castle. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   LIFE    OF    LOVE    AND    WAR THE    MESSENGER   OF   PEACE 

THE   JOUST. 

GIRT  with  his  soldiery,  secure  in  his  feudal  hold,  enchanted 
with  the  beauty  of  the  earth,  sky,  and  sea  around,  and  passion- 
ately adoring  his  Adeline,  Montreal  for  a  while  forgot  all  his 
more  stirring  projects  and  his  ruder  occupations.  His  nature 
was  capable  of  great  tenderness,  as  of  great  ferocity ;  and  his 
heart  smote  him  when  he  looked  at  the  fair  cheek  of  his  lady 
and  saw  that  even  his  presence  did  not  suffice  to  bring  back  the 
smile  and  the  fresh  hues  of  old.  Often  he  cursed  that  fatal 
oath  of  his  knightly  order  which  forbade  him  to  wed,  though 
with  one  more  than  his  equal,  and  remorse  embittered  his 
happiest  hours.  That  gentle  lady  in  that  robber  hold,  severed 
from  all  she  had  been  taught  most  to  prize,  —  mother,  friends, 
and  fair  fame,  —  only  loved  her  seducer  the  more  intensely ; 
only  the  more  concentrated  upon  one  object  all  the  womanly 
and  tender  feelings  denied  every  other  and  less  sinful  vent. 
But  she  felt  her  shame,  though  she  sought  to  conceal  it,  and  a 
yet  more  gnawing  grief  than  even  that  of  shame  contributed  to 
prey  upon  her  spirits  and  undermine  her  health.  Yet,  withal, 
in  Montreal's  presence  she  was  happy,  even  in  regret ;  and  in 
her  declining  health  she  had  at  least  a  consolation  in  the  hope 
to  die  while  his  love  was  undiminished.  Sometimes  they  made 
short  excursions,  for  the  disturbed  state  of  the  country  forbade 
them  to  wander  far  from  the  castle,  through  the  sunny  woods 
and  along  the  glassy  sea,  which  make  the  charm  of  that  deli- 
cious scenery ;  and  that  mixture  of  the  savage  with  the  tender, 
the  wild  escort,  the  tent  in  some  green  glade  in  the  woods  at 
noon,  the  lute  and  voice  of  Adeline,  with  the  fierce  soldiers 
grouped  and  listening  in  the  distance,  might  have  well  suited 


160  RIENZl : 

the  verse  of  Ariosto,  and  harmonized  singularly  with  that 
strange,  disordered,  yet  chivalric  time,  in  which  the  Classic 
South  became  the  seat  of  the  Northern  Romance.  Still,  how- 
ever, Montreal  maintained  his  secret  intercourse  with  the 
Hungarian  king,  and,  plunged  in  new  projects,  willingly  for- 
sook for  the  present  all  his  designs  on  Rome.  Yet  deemed  he 
that  his  more  august  ambition  was  only  delayed,  and  bright  in 
the  more  distant  prospects  of  his  adventurous  career,  rose  the 
Capitol  of  Rome  and  shone  the  sceptre  of  the  Caesars. 

One  day,  as  Montreal,  with  a  small  troop  in  attendance, 
passed  on  horseback  near  the  walls  of  Terracina,  the  gates 
were  suddenly  thrown  open,  and  a  numerous  throng  issued 
forth,  preceded  by  a  singular  figure,  whose  steps  they  followed 
bareheaded  and  with  loud  blessings ;  a  train  of  monks  closed 
the  procession,  chanting  a  hymn,  of  which  the  concluding 
words  were  as  follows:  — 

Beauteous  on  the  mountains,  lo, 

The  feet  of  him  glad  tidings  gladly  bringing ; 
The  flowers  along  his  pathway  grow, 

And  voices,  heard  aloft,  to  angel  harps  are  singing ; 
And  strife  and  slaughter  cease 
Before  thy  blessed  way,  Young  Messenger  of  Peace ! 

O'er  the  mount  and  through  the  moor 

Glide  thy  holy  steps  secure ; 

Day  and  night  no  fear  thou  knowest, 

Lonely  —  but  with  God  thou  goest. 

Where  the  heathen  rage  the  fiercest, 

Through  the  armed  throng  thou  piercest ; 

For  thy  coat  of  mail,  bedight 

In  thy  spotless  robe  of  white ; 

For  the  sinful  sword,  thy  hand 

Bearing  bright  the  silver  wand. 

Through  the  camp  and  through  the  court, 

Through  the  bandit's  gloomy  fort, 

On  the  mission  of  the  dove. 

Speeds  the  minister  of  love. 

By  a  word  the  wildest  taming, 

And  the  world  to  Christ  reclaiming; 

While,  as  once  the  waters  trod 

By  the  footsteps  of  thy  God, 

War  and  wrath  and  rapine  cease, 
Hush'd  round  thy  charmed  path,  O  Messenger  of  Peace ! 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  161 

The  stranger  to  whom  these  honors  were  paid  was  a  young, 
unbearded  man,  clothed  in  white  wrought  with  silver :  he  was 
unarmed  and  barefooted;  in  his  hand  he  held  a  tall  silver 
wand.  Montreal  and  his  party  halted  in  astonishment  and 
wonder,  and  the  Knight,  spurring  his  horse  towards  the  crowd, 
confronted  the  stranger. 

"  How,  friend,"  quoth  the  Prove^al,  "  is  thine  a  new  order 
of  pilgrims,  or  what  especial  holiness  has  won  thee  this 
homage  ?  " 

"  Back,  back ! "  cried  some  of  the  bolder  of  the  crowd ;  "  let 
not  the  robber  dare  arrest  the  Messenger  of  Peace." 

Montreal  waved  his  hand  disdainfully. 

"  I  speak  not  to  you,  good  sirs,  and  the  worthy  friars  in  your 
rear  know  full  well  that  I  never  injured  herald  or  palmer." 

The  monks,  ceasing  from  their  hymn,  advanced  hastily  to  the 
spot ;  and  indeed  the  devotion  of  Montreal  had  ever  induced 
him  to  purchase  the  good-will  of  whatever  monastery  neigh- 
bored his  wandering  home. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  eldest  of  the  brethren,  "  this  is  a  strange 
spectacle,  and  a  sacred;  and  when  thou  learnest  all,  thou 
wilt  rather  give  the  messenger  a  passport  of  safety  from  the 
unthinking  courage  of  thy  friends  than  intercept  his  path  of 
peace." 

"  Ye  puzzle  still  more  my  simple  brain,"  said  Montreal,  im- 
patiently ;  "  let  the  youth  speak  for  himself.  I  perceive  that 
on  his  mantle  are  the  arms  of  Home  blended  with  other  quar- 
terings,  which  are  a  mystery  to  me,  though  sufficiently  versed 
in  heraldic  art,  as  befits  a  noble  and  a  knight." 

"  Signor,"  said  the  youth,  gravely,  "  know  in  me  the  messen- 
ger of  Cola  di  Kienzi,  Tribune  of  Eome,  charged  with  letters 
to  many  a  baron  and  prince  in  the  ways  between  Rome  and 
Naples.  The  arms  wrought  upon  my  mantle  are  those  of  the 
Pontiff,  the  City,  and  the  Tribune." 

"  Umph !  thou  must  have  bold  nerves  to  traverse  the  Cam- 
pagna  with  no  other  weapon  than  that  stick  of  silver!" 

"  Thou  art  mistaken,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  the  youth,  boldly, 
"and  judgest  of  the  present  by  the  past.  Know  that  not  a 
single  robber  now  lurks  within  the  Campagna ;  the  arms  of  the 

VOL.    I.  —  11 


162  RIENZI : 

Tribune  have  rendered  every  road  around  the  city  as  secure  as 
the  broadest  street  of  the  city  itself.''' 

"  Thou  tellest  me  wonders." 

"  Through  the  forest  and  in  the  fortress,  through  the  wildest 
solitudes,  through  the  most  populous  towns,  have  my  comrades 
borne  this  silver  wand  unmolested  and  unscathed.  Wherever 
we  pass  along,  thousands  hail  us,  and  tears  of  joy  bless  the 
messengers  of  him  who  hath  expelled  the  brigand  from  his 
hold,  the  tyrant  from  his  castle,  and  insured  the  gains  of  the 
merchant  and  the  hut  of  the  peasant." 

"  Par  Dieu  /  "  said  Montreal,  with  a  stern  smile,  "  I  ought  to 
be  thankful  for  the  preference  shown  to  me.  I  have  not  yet 
received  the  commands,  nor  felt  the  vengeance,  of  the  Tribune ; 
yet,  methinks,  my  humble  castle  lies  just  within  the  patrimony 
of  Saint  Peter." 

"Pardon  me,  Signer  Cavalier,"  said  the  youth;  "but  do  I 
address  the  renowned  Knight  of  St.  John,  warrior  of  the  Cross, 
yet  leader  of  banditti  ?  " 

"  Boy,  you  are  bold ;  I  am  Walter  de  Montreal." 

"I  am  bound,  then,  Sir  Knight,  to  your  castle." 

"  Take  care  how  thou  reach  it  before  me,  or  thou  standest  a 
fair  chance  of  a  quick  exit.  How  now,  my  friends  ?  "  seeing 
that  the  crowd  at  these  words  gathered  closer  round  the 
messenger.  "Think  ye  that  I,  who  have  my  mate  in  kings, 
would  find  a  victim  in  an  unarmed  boy  ?  Fie !  give  way,  give 
way.  Young  man,  follow  me  homeward ;  you  are  safe  in  my 
castle  as  in  your  mother's  arms."  So  saying,  Montreal,  with 
great  dignity  and  deliberate  gravity,  rode  slowly  towards  his 
castle,  his  soldiers,  wondering,  at  a  little  distance,  and  the 
white-robed  messenger  following  with  the  crowd,  who  refused 
to  depart;  so  great  was  their  enthusiasm  that  they  even 
ascended  to  the  gates  of  the  dreaded  castle,  and  insisted  on 
waiting  without  until  the  return  of  the  youth  assured  them 
of  his  safety. 

Montreal,  who,  however  lawless  elsewhere,  strictly  preserved 
the  rights  of  the  meanest  boor  in  his  immediate  neighborhood, 
and  rather  affected  popularity  with  the  poor,  bade  the  crowd 
enter  the  courtyard,  ordered  his  servitors  to  provide  them  with 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  163 

wine  and  refreshment,  regaled  the  good  monks  in  his  great 
hall,  and  then  led  the  way  to  a  small  room,  where  he  received 
the  messenger. 

"  This,"  said  the  youth,  "  will  best  explain  my  mission,"  as 
he  placed  a  letter  before  Montreal. 

The  Knight  cut  the  silk  with  his  dagger,  and  read  the  epistle 
with  great  composure. 

"Your  Tribune,"  said  he,  when  he  had  finished  it,  "has 
learned  the  laconic  style  of  power  very  soon.  He  orders  me 
to  render  this  castle  and  vacate  the  Papal  territory  within  ten 
days.  He  is  obliging ;  I  must  have  breathing  time  to  consider 
the  proposal.  Be  seated,  I  pray  you,  young  sir.  Forgive  me, 
but  I  should  have  imagined  that  your  lord  had  enough  upon 
his  hands  with  his  Roman  barons,  to  make  him  a  little  more 
indulgent  to  us  foreign  visitors.  Stephen  Colonna  — " 

"  Is  returned  to  Rome,  and  has  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance ; 
the  Savelli,  the  Orsini,  the  Frangipani,  have  all  subscribed 
their  submission  to  the  Buono  Stato." 

"  How ! "  cried  Montreal,  in  great  surprise. 

"  Not  only  have  they  returned,  but  they  have  submitted  to 
the  dispersion  of  all  their  mercenaries  and  the  dismantling  of 
all  their  fortifications.  The  iron  of  the  Orsini  palace  now 
barricades  the  Capitol,  and  the  stonework  of  the  Colonna  and 
the  Savelli  has  added  new  battlements  to  the  gates  of  the 
Lateran  and  St.  Laurence." 

"Wonderful  man!"  said  Montreal,  with  reluctant  admira- 
tion. "  By  what  means  was  this  effected  ?  " 

"  A  stern  command  and  a  strong  force  to  back  it.  At  the 
first  sound  of  the  great  bell,  twenty  thousand  Romans  rise  in 
arms.  What  to  such  an  army  are  the  brigands  of  an  Orsini 
or  a  Colonna  ?  Sir  Knight,  your  valor  and  renown  make  even 
Rome  admire  you ;  and  I,  a  Roman,  bid  you  beware." 

"  Well,  I  thank  thee ;  thy  news,  friend,  robs  me  of  breath. 
So  the  Barons  submit,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes.  On  the  first  day,  one  of  the  Colonna,  the  Lord 
Adrian,  took  the  oath ;  within  a  week,  Stephen,  assured  of 
safe  conduct,  left  Palestrina,  the  Savelli  in  his  train ;  the  Orsini 
followed.  Even  Martino  di  Porto  has  silently  succumbed." 


It1. 1  RIENZI: 

"  The  Tribune.  —  But  is  that  his  dignity  ?  Methought  he 
was  to  be  king  —  " 

"  He  was  offered,  and  he  refused  the  title.  His  present  rank, 
which  arrogates  no  patrician  honors,  went  far  to  conciliate  the 
nobles." 

"  A  wise  knave !  —  I  beg  pardon,  a  sagacious  prince  I  Well, 
then,  the  Tribune  lords  it  mightily,  I  suppose,  over  the  great 
Roman  names  ?  " 

"Pardon  me;  he  enforces  impartial  justice  from  peasant 
or  patrician;  but  he  preserves  to  the  nobles  all  their  just 
privileges  and  legal  rank." 

"Ha!  and  the  vain  puppets,  so  they  keep  the  semblance, 
scarce  miss  the  substance,  —  I  understand.  But  this  shows 
genius.  The  Tribune  is  unwed,  I  think.  Does  he  look  among 
the  Colonna  for  a  wife  ?  " 

"  Sir  Knight,  the  Tribune  is  already  married ;  within  three 
days  after  his  ascension  to  power  he  won  and  bore  home  the 
daughter  of  the  Baron  di  Raselli." 

"  Kaselli !  no  great  name  ;  he  might  have  done  better." 

"But  it  is  said,"  resumed  the  youth,  smiling,  "that  the 
Tribune  will  shortly  be  allied  to  the  Colonna,  through  his  fair 
sister  the  Signora  Irene.  The  Baron  di  Castello  woos  her." 

"  What,  Adrian  Colonna !  Enough ;  you  have  convinced  me 
that  a  man  who  contents  the  people  and  awes  or  conciliates 
the  nobles  is  born  for  empire.  My  answer  to  this  letter  I  will 
send  myself.  For  your  news,  Sir  Messenger,  accept  this 
jewel,"  and  the  Knight  took  from  his  finger  a  gem  of  some 
price.  "  Nay,  shrink  not ;  it  was  as  freely  given  to  me  as  it 
is  now  to  thee." 

The  youth,  who  had  been  agreeably  surprised  and  impressed 
by  the  manner  of  the  renowned  freebooter,  and  who  was 
not  a  little  astonished  himself  with  the  ease  and  familiar- 
ity with  which  he  had  been  relating  to  Fra  Moreale,  in  his 
own  fortress,  the  news  of  Rome,  bowed  low  as  he  accepted 
the  gift. 

The  astute  Provenqal,  who  saw  the  ev'ient  impression  he 
had  made,  perceived  also  that  it  might  be  of  advantage  in 
delaying  the  measures  he  might  deem  it  expedient  to  adopt. 


THE  LAST   OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  165 

"Assure  the  Tribune,"  said  he,  on  dismissing  the  messenger, 
"  shouldst  thou  return  ere  my  letter  arrive,  that  I  admire 
his  genius,  hail  his  power,  and  will  not  fail  to  consider  as 
favorably  as  I  may  of  his  demand." 

"Better,"  said  the  messenger,  warmly  (he  was  of  good 
blood  and  gentle  bearing),  "  better  ten  tyrants  for  our  enemy 
than  one  Montreal." 

"  An  enemy  !  Believe  me,  sir,  I  seek  no  enmity  with  princes 
who  know  how  to  govern,  or  a  people  that  has  the  wisdom  at 
once  to  rule  and  to  obey." 

The  whole  of  that  day,  however,  Montreal  remained  thought- 
ful and  uneasy ;  he  despatched  trusty  messengers  to  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Aquila  (who  was  then  in  correspondence  with  Louis 
of  Hungary),  to  Naples,  and  to  Rome,  —  the  last  charged  with 
a  letter  to  the  Tribune,  which,  without  absolutely  compromis- 
ing himself,  affected  submission,  and  demanded  only  a  longer 
leisure  for  the  preparations  of  departure.  But  at  the  same 
time  fresh  fortifications  were  added  to  the  castle,  ample  pro- 
visions were  laid  in,  and,  night  and  day,  spies  and  scouts  were 
stationed  along  the  pass  and  in  the  town  of  Terracina.  Mon- 
treal was  precisely  the  chief  who  prepared  most  for  war  when 
most  he  pretended  peace. 

One  morning,  the  fifth  from  the  appearance  of  the  Roman 
messenger,  Montreal,  after  narrowly  surveying  his  outworks 
and  his  stores,  and  feeling  satisfied  that  he  could  hold  out  at 
least  a  month's  siege,  repaired,  with  a  gayer  countenance  than 
he  had  lately  worn,  to  the  chamber  of  Adeline. 

The  lady  was  seated  by  the  casement  of  the  tower,  from 
which  might  be  seen  the  glorious  landscape  of  woods  and 
vales  and  orange  groves,  —  a  strange  garden  for  such  a  palace ! 
As  she  leant  her  face  upon  her  hand,  with  her  profile  slightly 
turned  to  Montreal,  there  was  something  ineffably  graceful  in 
the  bend  of  her  neck,  the  small  head  so  expressive  of  gentle 
blood,  with  the  locks  parted  in  front  in  that  simple  fashion 
which  modern  times  have  so  happily  revived.  But  the  expres- 
sion of  the  half-averted  face,  the  abstracted  intentness  of  the 
gaze,  and  the  profound  stillness  of  the  attitude,  were  so  sad 
and  mournful  that  Montreal's  purposed  greeting  of  gallantry 


RIENZI: 

and  gladness  died  upon  his  lips.  He  approached  in  silence, 
and  laid  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

Adeline  turned,  and  taking  the  hand  in  hers,  pressed  it  to 
her  heart  and  smiled  away  all  her  sadness. 

"  Dearest,"  said  Montreal,  "  couldst  thou  know  how  much 
any  shadow  of  grief  on  thy  bright  face  darkens  my  heart,  thou 
wouldst  never  grieve.  But  no  wonder  that  in  these  rude 
walls  —  no  female  of  equal  rank  near  thee,  and  such  mirth  as 
Montreal  can  summon  to  his  halls,  grating  to  thy  ear  —  no 
wonder  that  thou  repentest  thee  of  thy  choice." 

"  Ah !  no,  no,  Walter,  I  never  repent.  I  did  but  think  of  our 
child  as  you  entered.  Alas  !  he  was  our  only  child.  How 
fair  he  was,  Walter;  how  he  resembled  thee!" 

"Nay,  he  had  thine  eyes  and  brow,"  replied  the  Knight, 
with  a  faltering  voice,  and  turning  away  his  head. 

"  Walter,"  resumed  the  lady,  sighing,  "  do  you  remember  ? 
This  is  his  birthday;  he  is  ten  years  old  to-day.  We  have 
loved  each  other  eleven  years,  and  thou  hast  not  tired  yet  of 
thy  poor  Adeline." 

"  As  well  might  the  saints  weary  of  Paradise,"  replied  Mon- 
treal, with  an  enamoured  tenderness  which  changed  into 
softness  the  whole  character  of  his  heroic  countenance. 

"  Could  I  think  so,  I  should  indeed  be  blest ! "  answered 
Adeline.  "  But  a  little  while  longer,  and  the  few  charms  I  yet 
possess  must  fade ;  and  what  other  claim  have  I  on  thee  ?  " 

"  All  claim,  —  the  memory  of  thy  first  blushes,  thy  first 
kiss,  of  thy  devoted  sacrifices,  of  thy  patient  wanderings,  of 
thy  uncomplaining  love !  Ah,  Adeline,  we  are  of  Provence, 
not  of  Italy ;  and  when  did  Knight  of  Provence  avoid  his  foe 
or  forsake  his  love  ?  But  enough,  dearest,  of  home  and  melan- 
choly for  to-day.  I  come  to  bid  thee  forth.  I  have  sent  on 
the  servitors  to  pitch  our  tent  beside  the  sea;  we  will  enjoy 
the  orange-blossoms  while  we  may.  Ere  another  week  pass 
over  us,  we  may  have  sterner  pastime  and  closer  confines." 

"  How,  dearest  Walter !     Thou  dost  not  apprehend  danger  ?  " 

"Thou  speakest,  lady-bird,"  said  Montreal,  laughing,  "as  if 
danger  were  novelty ;  methinks  by  this  time  thou  shouldst 
know  it  as  the  atmosphere  we  breathe." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  167 

"  Ah,  Walter,  is  this  to  last  forever  ?  Thou  art  now  rich  and 
renowned ;  canst  thou  not  abandon  this  career  of  strife  ?  " 

"  Now  out  on  thee,  Adeline !  What  are  riches  and  renown 
but  the  means  to  power  ?  And  for  strife,  the  shield  of  war- 
riors was  iny  cradle :  pray  the  saints  it  be  my  bier !  These 
wild  and  wizard  extremes  of  life,  —  from  the  bower  to  the 
tent,  from  the  cavern  to  the  palace  ;  to-day  a  wandering  exile, 
to-morrow  the  equal  of  kings,  —  make  the  true  element  of  the 
chivalry  of  my  Norman  sires.  Normandy  taught  me  war, 
and  sweet  Provence  love.  Kiss  me,  dear  Adeline ;  and  now 
let  thy  handmaids  attire  thee.  Forget  not  thy  lute,  sweet 
one.  We  will  rouse  the  echoes  with  the  songs  of  Provence." 

The  ductile  temper  of  Adeline  yielded  easily  to  the  gayety 
of  her  lord,  and  the  party  soon  sallied  from  the  castle  towards 
the  spot  in  which  Montreal  had  designed  their  resting-place 
during  the  heats  of  day.  But  already  prepared  for  all  sur- 
prise, the  castle  was  left  strictly  guarded,  and  besides  the 
domestic  servitors  of  the  castle,  a  detachment  of  ten  soldiers, 
completely  armed,  accompanied  the  lovers.  Montreal  him- 
self wore  his  corselet,  and  his  squires  followed  with  his  hel- 
met and  lance.  Beyond  the  narrow  defile  at  the  base  of  the 
castle  the  road  at  that  day  opened  into  a  broad  patch  of  ver- 
dure, circled  on  all  sides,  save  that  open  to  the  sea,  by  wood, 
interspersed  with  myrtle  and  orange,  and  a  wilderness  of  odor- 
ous shrubs.  In  this  space,  and  sheltered  by  the  broad-spread- 
ing and  classic  fagus  (so  improperly  translated  into  the  Eng- 
lish beech},  a  gay  pavilion  was  prepared,  which  commanded 
the  view  of  the  sparkling  sea,  —  shaded  from  the  sun,  but 
open  to  the  gentle  breeze.  This  was  poor  Adeline's  favorite 
recreation,  if  recreation  it  might  be  called.  She  rejoiced  to 
escape  from  the  gloomy  walls  of  her  castellated  prison,  and 
to  enjoy  the  sunshine  and  the  sweets  of  that  voluptuous 
climate  without  the  fatigue  which  of  late  all  exercise  occa- 
sioned her.  It  was  a  gallantry  on  the  part  of  Montreal,  who 
foresaw  how  short  an  interval  might  elapse  before  the  troops 
of  Eienzi  besieged  his  walls,  and  who  was  himself  no  less  at 
home  in  the  bower  than  in  the  field. 

As  they  reclined  within  the  pavilion,  the  lover  and  his  lady, 


168  RIENZI : 

of  the  attendants  without,  some  lounged  idly  on  the  beach, 
some  prepared  the  awning  of  a  pleasure-boat  against  the  de- 
cline of  the  sun,  some,  in  a  ruder  tent,  out  of  sight  in  the 
wood,  arranged  the  mid-day  repast ;  while  the  strings  of  the 
lute,  touched  by  Montreal  himself  with  a  careless  skill,  gave 
their  music  to  the  dreamy  stillness  of  the  noon. 

While  thus  employed,  one  of  Montreal's  scouts  arrived 
breathless  and  heated  at  the  tent. 

"  Captain,"  said  he,  "  a  company  of  thirty  lances  completely 
armed,  with  a  long  retinue  of  squires  and  pages,  have  just 
quitted  Terracina.  Their  banners  bear  the  twofold  insignia 
of  Rome  and  the  Colonna." 

"  Ho ! "  said  Montreal,  gayly,  "  such  a  troop  is  a  welcome 
addition  to  our  company.  Send  our  squire  hither." 

The  squire  appeared. 

"Hie  thee  on  thy  steed  towards  the  procession  thou  wilt 
meet  with  in  the  pass  (nay,  sweet  lady  mine,  no  forbiddal !), 
seek  the  chief,  and  say  that  the  good  Knight  Walter  de  Mon- 
treal sends  him  greeting,  and  prays  him,  in  passing  our  proper 
territory,  to  rest  a  while  with  us  a  welcome  guest ;  and  —  stay 

—  add  that  if  to  while  an  hour  or  so  in  gentle  pastime  be 
acceptable  to  him,  Walter  de  Montreal  would  rejoice  to  break 
a  lance  with  him,  or  any  knight  in  his  train,  in  honor  of  our 
respective  ladies.     Hie  thee  quick!" 

"Walter,  Walter,"  began  Adeline,  who  had  that  keen  and 
delicate  sensitiveness  to  her  situation  which  her  reckless  lord 
often  wantonly  forgot,  "  Walter,  dear  Walter,  canst  thou  think 
it  honor  to  —  " 

"  Hush  thee,  sweet  Fleur  de  Its  !  Thou  hast  not  seen  pas- 
time this  many  a  day ;  I  long  to  convince  thee  that  thou  art  still 
the  fairest  lady  in  Italy,  —  ay,  and  of  Christendom.  But  these 
Italians  are  craven  knights,  and  thou  needst  not  fear  that  my 
proffer  will  be  accepted.  But  in  truth,  lady  mine,  I  rejoice 
for  graver  objects  that  chance  throws  a  Roman  noble,  perhaps 
a  Colonna,  in  my  way,  —  women  understand  not  these  matters, 

—  and    aught  concerning  Rome    touches  us   home   at    this 
moment." 

With  that  the  Knight  frowned,  as  was  his  wont  in  thought, 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  169 

and  Adeline  ventured  to  say  no  more,  but  retired  to  the  interior 
division  of  the  pavilion. 

Meanwhile  the  squire  approached  the  procession  that  had 
now  reached  the  middle  of  the  pass.  And  a  stately  and  gal- 
lant company  it  was.  If  the  complete  harness  of  the  soldiery 
seemed  to  attest  a  warlike  purpose,  it  was  contradicted  on  the 
other  hand  by  a  numerous  train  of  unarmed  squires  and  pages 
gorgeously  attired,  while  the  splendid  blazon  of  two  heralds 
preceding  the  standard-bearers  proclaimed  their  object  as 
peaceful,  and  their  path  as  sacred.  It  required  but  a  glance 
at  the  company  to  tell  the  leader.  Arrayed  in  a  breastplate 
of  steel  wrought  profusely  with  gold  arabesques,  over  which 
was  a  mantle  of  dark-green  velvet  bordered  with  pearls,  while 
above  his  long  dark  locks  waved  a  black  ostrich  plume  in  a 
high  Macedonian  cap,  —  such  as,  I  believe,  is  now  worn  by  the 
Grand  Master  of  the  Order  of  St.  Constantine,  —  rode  in  the 
front  of  the  party  a  young  cavalier,  distinguished  from  his 
immediate  comrades  partly  by  his  graceful  presence  and  partly 
by  his  splendid  dress. 

The  squire  approached  respectfully,  and  dismounting,  de- 
livered himself  of  his  charge. 

The  young  cavalier  smiled  as  he  answered :  "  Bear  back  to 
Sir  Walter  de  Montreal  the  greeting  of  Adrian  Colonna,  Baron 
di  Castello,  and  say  the  solemn  object  of  my  present  journey 
will  scarce  permit  me  to  encounter  the  formidable  lance  of  so 
celebrated  a  knight ;  and  I  regret  this  the  more,  inasmuch  as 
I  may  not  yield  to  any  dame  the  palm  of  my  liege  lady's  beauty. 
I  must  live  in  hope  of  a  happier  occasion.  For  the  rest,  I  will 
cheerfully  abide  for  some  few  hours  the  guest  of  so  courteous 
a  host." 

The  squire  bowed  low.  "  My  master,"  said  he,  hesitatingly, 
"  will  grieve  much  to  miss  so  noble  an  opponent.  But  my  mes- 
sage refers  to  all  this  knightly  and  gallant  train ;  and  if  the 
Lord  Adrian  di  Castello  deems  himself  forbidden  the  joust  by 
the  object  of  his  present  journey,  surely  one  of  his  comrades 
will  be  his  proxy  with  my  master  ?  " 

Out  and  quickly  spoke  a  young  noble  by  the  side  of  Adrian, 
Riccardo  Annibaldit  who  afterwards  did  good  service  both  to 


170  RIENXI  : 

the  Tribune  and  to  Rome,  and  whose  valor  brought  him,  in 
later  life,  to  an  untimely  end. 

"  By  the  Lord  Adrian's  permission,"  cried  he,  "  I  will  break 
a  lance  with  —  ' 

"  Hush,  Annibaldi  ! "  interrupted  Adrian.  "  And  you,  Sir 
Squire,  know  that  Adrian  di  Castello  permits  no  proxy  in 
arms.  Avise  the  Knight  of  St.  John  that  we  accept  his  hos- 
pitality, and  if,  after  some  converse  on  graver  matters,  he 
should  still  desire  so  light  an  entertainment,  I  will  forget  that 
I  am  the  ambassador  to  Naples,  and  remember  only  that  I  am 
a  Knight  of  the  Empire.  You  have  your  answer." 

The  squire  with  much  ceremony  made  his  obeisance,  remount- 
ed his  steed,  and  returned  in  a  half-gallop  to  his  master. 

"  Forgive  me,  dear  Annibaldi,"  said  Adrian,  "  that  I  balked 
your  valor ;  and  believe  me  that  I  never  more  longed  to  break 
a  lance  against  any  man  than  I  do  against  this  boasting  French- 
man. But  bethink  you  that  though  to  us,  brought  up  in  the 
dainty  laws  of  chivalry,  Walter  de  Montreal  is  the  famous 
Knight  of  Provence,  to  the  Tribune  of  Rome,  whose  grave 
mission  we  now  fulfil,  he  is  but  the  mercenary  captain  of  a 
Free  Company.  Grievously  in  his  eyes  should  we  sully  our 
dignity  by  so  wanton  and  irrelevant  a  holiday  conflict  with 
a  declared  and  professional  brigand." 

"  For  all  that,"  said  Annibaldi,  "  the  brigand  ought  not  to 
boast  that  a  Roman  knight  shunned  a  Provencal  lance." 

"  Cease,  I  pray  thee !  "  said  Adrian,  impatiently.  In  fact, 
the  young  Colonna  already  chafed  bitterly  against  his  discreet 
and  dignified  rejection  of  Montreal's  proffer ;  and  recollecting 
with  much  pique  the  disparaging  manner  in  which  the  Pro- 
vengal  had  spoken  of  the  Roman  chivalry,  as  well  as  a  certain 
tone  of  superiority  which  in  all  warlike  matters  Montreal  had 
assumed  over  him,  he  now  felt  his  cheek  burn  and  his  lip 
quiver.  Highly  skilled  in  the  martial  accomplishments  of  his 
time,  he  had  a  natural  and  excusable  desire  to  prove  that  he 
was  at  least  no  unworthy  antagonist  even  of  the  best  lance  in 
Italy ;  and,  added  to  this,  the  gallantry  of  the  age  made  him 
feel  it  a  sort  of  treason  to  his  mistress  to  forego  any  means  of 
asserting  her  perfections. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  171 

It  was  therefore  with  considerable  irritation  that  Adrian,  as 
the  pavilion  of  Montreal  became  visible,  perceived  the  squire 
returning  to  him.  And  the  reader  will  judge  how  much  this 
was  increased  when  the  latter,  once  more  dismounting,  accosted 
him  thus :  — 

"  My  master,  the  Knight  of  St.  John,  011  hearing  the  cour- 
teous answer  of  the  Lord  Adrian  di  Castello,  bids  me  say  that 
lest  the  graver  converse  the  Lord  Adrian  refers  to  should  mar 
gentle  and  friendly  sport,  he  ventures  respectfully  to  suggest 
that  the  tilt  should  preface  the  converse.  The  sod  before  the 
tent  is  so  soft  and  smooth  that  even  a  fall  could  be  attended 
with  no  danger  to  knight  or  steed." 

"  By  our  Lady  !  "  cried  Adrian  and  Annibaldi  in  a  breath, 
"  but  thy  last  words  are  discourteous ;  and  "  (proceeded  Adrian, 
recovering  himself)  "  since  thy  master  will  have  it  so,  let  him 
look  to  his  horse's  girths.  I  will  not  gainsay  his  fancy." 

Montreal,  who  had  thus  insisted  upon  the  exhibition,  partly, 
it  may  be,  from  the  gay  and  ruffling  bravado  common  still 
amongst  his  brave  countrymen,  partly  because  he  was  curious 
of  exhibiting  before  those  who  might  soon  be  his  open  foes  his 
singular  and  unrivalled  address  in  arms,  was  yet  more  moved 
to  it  on  learning  the  name  of  the  leader  of  the  Eoman  Com- 
pany; for  his  vain  and  haughty  spirit,  however  it  had  dis- 
guised resentment  at  the  time,  had  by  no  means  forgiven 
certain  warm  expressions  of  Adrian  in  the  palace  of  Stephen 
Colonna  and  in  the  unfortunate  journey  to  Corneto.  While 
Adrian,  halting  at  the  entrance  of  the  defile,  aided  by  his 
squires  indignantly  but  carefully  indued  the  rest  of  his  armor, 
and  saw,  himself,  to  the  girths,  stirrup-leathers,  and  various 
buckles  in  the  caparison  of  his  noble  charger,  Montreal  in 
great  glee  kissed  his  lady,  —  who,  though  too  soft  to  be  angry, 
was  deeply  vexed,  and  yet  her  vexation  half-forgotten  in  fear 
for  his  safety,  —  snatched  up  her  scarf  of  blue,  which  he  threw 
over  his  breastplate,  and  completed  his  array  with  the  indiffer- 
ence of  a  man  certain  of  victory.  He  was  destined,  however, 
to  one  disadvantage,  and  that  the  greatest,  —  his  armor  and 
lance  had  been  brought  from  the  castle,  not  his  war-horse.  His 
palfrey  was  too  slight  to  bear  the  great  weight  of  his  armor ; 


172  RIENZI : 

nor  amongst  his  troop  was  there  one  horse  that  for  power  and 
could  match  with  Adrian's.  He  chose,  however,  the 
that  was  at  hand;  and  a  loud  shout  from  his  wild 
followers  testified  their  admiration  when  he  sprang  unaided 
from  the  ground  into  the  saddle,  —  a  rare  and  difficult  feat  of 
agility  in  a  man  completely  arrayed  in  the  ponderous  armor 
which  issued  at  that  day  from  the  forges  of  Milan,  and  was 
worn  far  more  weighty  in  Italy  than  any  other  part  of  Europe. 
While  both  companies  grouped  slowly,  and  mingled  in  a  kind 
of  circle  round  the  green  turf,  and  the  Koman  heralds,  with 
bustling  importance,  attempted  to  marshal  the  spectators  into 
order,  Montreal  rode  his  charger  round  the  sward,  forcing  it 
into  various  caracoles,  and  exhibiting,  with  the  vanity  that 
belonged  to  him,  his  exquisite  and  practised  horsemanship. 

At  length  Adrian,  his  visor  down,  rode  slowly  into  the  green 
space,  amidst  the  cheers  of  his  party.  The  two  Knights,  at 
either  end,  gravely  fronted  each  other ;  they  made  the  courte- 
sies with  their  lances  which,  in  friendly  and  sportive  encoun- 
ters, were  customary ;  and  as  they  thus  paused  for  the  signal 
of  encounter,  the  Italians  trembled  for  the  honor  of  their 
chief :  Montreal's  stately  height  and  girth  of  chest  forming  a 
strong  contrast,  even  in  armor,  to  the  form  of  his  opponent, 
which  was  rather  under  the  middle  standard,  and  though  firmly 
knit,  slightly  and  slenderly  built.  But  to  that  perfection  was 
skill  in  arms  brought  in  those  times  that  great  strength  and 
size  were  far  from  being  either  the  absolute  requisites  or  even 
the  usual  attributes  of  the  more  celebrated  knights,  —  in  fact, 
so  much  was  effected  by  the  power  and  the  management  of  the 
steed  that  a  light  weight  in  the  rider  was  often  rather  to  his 
advantage  than  his  prejudice  ;  and,  even  at  a  later  period,  the 
most  accomplished  victors  in  the  tourney,  the  French  Bayard 
and  the  English  Sidney,  were  far  from  remarkable  either  for 
bulk  or  stature. 

Whatever  the  superiority  of  Montreal  in  physical  power; 
was,  in  much,  counterbalanced  by  the  inferiority  of  his  horse, 
which,  though  a  thick-built  and  strong  Calabrian,  had  neither 
the  blood,  bone,  nor  practised  discipline  of  the  Northern 
charger  of  the  Roman.  The  shining  coat  of  the  latter,  coal 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUTES.  173 

black,  was  set  off  by  a  scarlet  cloth  wrought  in  gold ;  the  neck 
and  shoulders  were  clad  in  scales  of  mail ;  and  from  the  fore- 
head projected  a  long  point,  like  the  horn  of  a  unicorn,  while 
on  its  crest  waved  a  tall  plume  of  scarlet  and  white  feathers. 
As  the  mission  of  Adrian  to  Naples  was  that  of  pomp  and 
ceremony  to  a  court  of  great  splendor,  so  his  array  and  retinue 
were  befitting  the  occasion  and  the  passion  for  show  that 
belonged  to  the  time ;  and  the  very  bridle  of  his  horse,  which 
was  three  inches  broad,  was  decorated  with  gold,  and  even 
jewels.  The  Knight  himself  was  clad  in  mail  which  had 
tested  the  finest  art  of  the  celebrated  Ludovico  of  Milan ;  and, 
altogether,  his  appearance  was  unusually  gallant  and  splendid, 
and  seemed  still  more  so  beside  the  plain  but  brightly  polished 
and  artfully  flexile  armor  of  Montreal  (adorned  only  with  his 
lady's  scarf)  and  the  common  and  rude  mail  of  his  charger. 
This  contrast,  however,  was  not  welcome  to  the  Proven£al, 
whose  vanity  was  especially  indulged  in  warlike  equipments, 
and  who,  had  he  foreseen  the  "pastime"  that  awaited  him, 
would  have  outshone  even  the  Colonna. 

The  trumpeters  of  either  party  gave  a  short  blast :  the 
Knights  remained  erect  as  statues  of  iron ;  a  second,  and  each 
slightly  bent  over  his  saddle-bow;  a  third,  and  with  spears 
couched,  slackened  reins,  and  at  full  speed  on  they  rushed,  and 
fiercely  they  met  midway.  With  the  reckless  arrogance  which 
belonged  to  him,  Montreal  had  imagined  that  at  the  first  touch 
of  his  lance  Adrian  would  have  been  unhorsed;  but  to  his 
great  surprise  the  young  Roman  remained  firm,  and  amidst  the 
shouts  of  his  party  passed  on  to  the  other  end  of  the  lists. 
Montreal  himself  was  rudely  shaken,  but  lost  neither  seat  nor 
stirrup. 

"  This  can  be  no  carpet  knight,"  muttered  Montreal  between 
his  teeth  as,  this  time,  he  summoned  all  his  skill  for  a  second 
encounter ;  while  Adrian,  aware  of  the  great  superiority  of  his 
charger,  resolved  to  bring  it  to  bear  against  his  opponent. 
Accordingly,  when  the  knights  again  rushed  forward,  Adrian, 
covering  himself  well  with  his  buckler,  directed  his  care  less 
against  the  combatant,  whom  he  felt  no  lance  wielded  by  mor- 
tal hand  was  likely  to  dislodge,  than  against  the  less  noble 


174  RIENZI : 

animal  he  bestrode.  The  shock  of  Montreal's  charge  was  like 
on  avalanche:  his  lance  shivered  into  a  thousand  pieces. 
Adrian  lost  both  stirrups,  and  but  for  the  strong  iron  bows 
which  guarded  the  saddle  in  front  and  rear,  would  have  been 
fairly  unhorsed ;  as  it  was,  he  was  almost  doubled  back  by  the 
encounter,  and  his  ears  rung  and  his  eyes  reeled,  so  that  for  a 
moment  or  two  he  almost  lost  all  consciousness.  But  his  steed 
had  well  repaid  its  nurture  and  discipline.  Just  as  the  com- 
batants closed,  the  animal,  rearing  on  high,  pressed  forward 
with  its  mighty  crest  against  its  opponent  with  a  force  so  irre- 
sistible as  to  drive  back  Montreal's  horse  several  paces ;  while 
Adrian's  lance,  poised  with  exquisite  skill,  striking  against  the 
Provencal's  helmet,  somewhat  rudely  diverted  the  Knight's 
attention  for  the  moment  from  his  rein.  Montreal  drawing  the 
curb  too  tightly  in  the  suddenness  of  his  recovery,  the  horse 
reared  on  end,  and  receiving  at  that  instant,  full  upon  his 
breastplate,  the  sharp  horn  and  mailed  crest  of  Adrian's 
charger,  fell  back  over  its  rider  upon  the  sward.  Montreal 
disencumbered  himself  in  great  rage  and  shame,  as  a  faint  cry 
from  his  pavilion  reached  his  ear  and  redoubled  his  mortifica- 
tion. He  rose  with  a  lightness  which  astonished  the  be- 
holders, —  for  so  heavy  was  the  armor  worn  at  that  day  that 
few  knights  once  stretched  upon  the  ground  could  rise  without 
assistance,  —  and  drawing  his  sword,  cried  out  fiercely :  "  On 
foot,  on  foot !  The  fall  was  not  mine,  but  this  accursed  beast's, 
that  I  must  needs  for  my  sins  raise  to  the  rank  of  a  charger. 
Come  on  —  " 

"Nay,  Sir  Knight,"  said  Adrian,  drawing  off  his  gauntlets 
and  unbuckling  his  helmet,  which  he  threw  on  the  ground,  "  I 
come  to  thee  a  guest  and  a  friend ;  but  to  fight  on  foot  is  the 
encounter  of  mortal  foes.  Did  I  accept  thy  offer,  my  defeat 
would  but  stain  thy  knighthood." 

Montreal,  whose  passion  had  beguiled  him  for  the  moment, 
sullenly  acquiesced  in  this  reasoning.  Adrian  hastened  to 
soothe  his  antagonist.  "  For  the  rest,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  pre- 
tend to  the  prize.  Your  lance  lost  me  my  stirrups  —  mine  left 
you  unshaken.  You  say  right :  the  defeat,  if  any,  was  that  of 
your  steed." 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  175 

"  We  may  meet  again  when  I  am  more  equally  horsed,"  said 
Montreal,  still  chafing. 

"  Now,  our  Lady  forbid ! "  exclaimed  Adrian,  with  so  devout 
an  earnestness  that  the  bystanders  could  not  refrain  from 
laughing;  and  even  Montreal,  grimly  and  half-reluctantly, 
joined  in  the  merriment.  The  courtesy  of  his  foe,  however, 
conciliated  and  touched  the  more  frank  and  soldierly  qualities 
of  his  nature,  and  composing  himself,  he  replied  :  — 

"  Signer  di  Castello,  I  rest  your  debtor  for  a  courtesy  that  I 
have  but  little  imitated.  Howbeit,  if  thou  wouldst  bind  me  to 
thee  forever,  thou  wilt  suffer  me  to  send  for  my  own  charger 
and  afford  me  a  chance  to  retrieve  mine  honor.  With  that 
steed,  or  with  one  equal  to  thine,  which  seems  to  me  of  the 
English  breed,  I  will  gage  all  I  possess,  —  lands,  castle,  and 
gold,  sword  and  spurs,  —  to  maintain  this  pass,  one  by  one, 
against  all  thy  train." 

Fortunately,  perhaps,  for  Adrian,  ere  he  could  reply,  Eiccardo 
Annibaldi  cried,  with  great  warmth,  "  Sir  Knight,  I  have  with 
me  two  steeds  well  practised  in  the  tourney :  take  thy  choice, 
and  accept  in  me  a  champion  of  the  Roman  against  the  French 
chivalry  ;  there  is  my  gage." 

"Signor,"  replied  Montreal,  with  ill-suppressed  delight, 
"thy  proffer  shows  so  gallant  and  free  a  spirit  that  it  were 
foul  sin  in  me  to  balk  it.  I  accept  thy  gage ;  and  whichever 
of  thy  steeds  thou  rejectest,  in  God's  name  bring  it  hither, 
and  let  us  waste  no  words  before  action." 

Adrian,  who  felt  that  hitherto  the  Komans  had  been  more 
favored  by  fortune  than  merit,  vainly  endeavored  to  prevent 
this  second  hazard.  But  Annibaldi  was  greatly  chafed,  and 
his  high  rank  rendered  it  impolitic  in  Adrian  to  offend  him , 
by  peremptory  prohibition ;  the  Colonna  reluctantly,  therefore, 
yielded  his  assent  to  the  engagement.  Annibaldi's  steeds 
were  led  to  the  spot,  —  the  one  a  noble  roan,  the  other  a  bay, 
of  somewhat  less  breeding  and  bone,  but  still  of  great  strength 
and  price.  Montreal,  finding  the  choice  pressed  upon  him, 
gallantly  selected  the  latter  and  less  excellent. 

Annibaldi  was  soon  arrayed  for  the  encounter,  and  Adrian 
gave  the  word  to  the  trumpeters.  The  Roman  was  of  a  stature 


176  RIENZI: 

almost  equal  to  that  of  Montreal,  and  though  some  years 
younger,  seemed,  in  his  armor,  nearly  of  the  same  thews  and 
girth,  so  that  the  present  antagonists  appeared  at  the  first 
glance  more  evenly  matched  than  the  last.  But  this  time 
Montreal,  well  horsed,  inspired  to  the  utmost  by  shame  and 
pride,  felt  himself  a  match  for  an  army ;  and  he  met  the 
young  Baron  with  such  prowess  that  while  the  very  plume  on 
his  casque  seemed  scarcely  stirred,  the  Italian  was  thrown 
several  paces  from  his  steed,  and  it  was  not  till  some  moments 
after  his  visor  was  removed  by  his  squires  that  he  recovered 
his  senses.  This  event  restored  Montreal  to  all  his  natural 
gayety  of  humor,  and  effectually  raised  the  spirits  of  his  follow- 
ers, who  had  felt  much  humbled  by  the  previous  encounter. 

He  himself  assisted  Annibaldi  to  rise,  with  great  courtesy 
and  a  profusion  of  compliments,  —  which  the  proud  Roman 
took  in  stern  silence,  —  and  then  led  the  way  to  the  pavil- 
ion, loudly  ordering  the  banquet  to  be  spread.  Annibaldi, 
however,  loitered  behind;  and  Adrian,  who  penetrated  his 
thoughts,  and  who  saw  that  over  their  cups  a  quarrel  between 
the  Provensal  and  his  friend  was  likely  to  ensue,  drawing  him 
aside,  said :  "  Methinks,  dear  Annibaldi,  it  would  be  better  if 
you,  with  the  chief  of  our  following,  were  to  proceed  onward 
to  Fondi,  where  I  will  join  you  at  sunset.  My  squires  and 
some  eight  lances  will  suffice  for  my  safeguard  here ;  and,  to 
say  truth,  I  desire  a  few  private  words  with  our  strange  host, 
in  the  hope  that  he  may  be  peaceably  induced  to  withdraw 
from  hence  without  the  help  of  our  Roman  troops,  who  have 
enough  elsewhere  to  feed  their  valor." 

Annibaldi  pressed  his  companion's  hand.  "I  understand 
thee,"  he  replied,  with  a  slight  blush ;  "  and,  indeed,  I  could 
but  ill  brook  the  complacent  triumph  of  the  barbarian.  I 
accept  thy  offer." 


THE  LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  177 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  CONVERSATION  BETWEEN  THE  ROMAN  AND  THE  PROVENCAL 
—  ADELINE'S  HISTORY  —  THE  MOON-LIT  SEA  —  THE  LUTE  AND 

THE   SONG. 

As  soon  as  Annibaldi,  with  the  greater  part  of  the  retinue, 
was  gone,  Adrian,  divesting  himself  of  his  heavy  greaves, 
entered  alone  the  pavilion  of  the  Knight  of  St.  John.  Mon- 
treal had  already  doffed  all  his  armor  save  the  breastplate, 
and  he  now  stepped  forward  to  welcome  his  guest  with  the 
winning  and  easy  grace  which  better  suited  his  birth  than  his 
profession.  He  received  Adrian's  excuses  for  the  absence  of 
Annibaldi  and  the  other  knights  of  his  train  with  a  smile 
which  seemed  to  prove  how  readily  he  divined  the  cause,  and 
conducted  him  to  the  other  and  more  private  division  of  the 
pavilion,  in  which  the  repast  (rendered  acceptable  by  the  late 
exercise  of  guest  and  host)  was  prepared ;  and  here  Adrian  for 
the  first  time  discovered  Adeline.  Long  inurement  to  the 
various  and  roving  life  of  her  lover,  joined  to  a  certain  pride 
which  she  derived  from  conscious,  though  forfeited,  rank,  gave 
to  the  outward  manner  of  that  beautiful  lady  an  ease  and  free- 
dom which  often  concealed,  even  from  Montreal,  her  sensitive- 
ness to  her  unhappy  situation.  At  times,  indeed,  when  alone 
with  Montreal,  whom  she  loved  with  all  the  devotion  of 
romance,  she  was  sensible  only  to  the  charm  of  a  presence 
which  consoled  her  for  all  things ;  but  in  his  frequent  absence, 
or  on  the  admission  of  any  stranger,  the  illusion  vanished,  the 
reality  returned.  Poor  lady!  Nature  had  not  formed,  edu- 
cation had  not  reared,  habit  had  not  reconciled,  her  to  the 
breath  of  shame! 

The  young  Colonna  was  much  struck  by  her  beauty,  and  more 
by  her  gentle  and  high-born  grace.  Like  her  lord,  she  appeared 
younger  than  she  was ;  time  seemed  to  spare  a  bloom  which  an 
experienced  eye  might  have  told  was  destined  to  an  early 

VOL.   I.  —  12 


ITS  IUENZI : 

grave ;  and  there  was  something  almost  girlish  in  the  lightness 
of  her  form,  the  braided  luxuriance  of  her  rich  auburn  hair, 
and  the  color  that  went  and  came,  not  only  with  every  move- 
ment, but  almost  with  every  word.  The  contrast  between  her 
and  Montreal  became  them  both,  —  it  was  the  contrast  of  de- 
voted reliance  and  protecting  strength :  each  looked  fairer  in 
the  presence  of  the  other  :  and  as  Adrian  sat  down  to  the  well- 
laden  board,  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  pair  more  formed 
for  the  poetic  legends  of  their  native  Troubadours. 

Montreal  conversed  gayly  upon  a  thousand  matters,  pressed 
the  wine-flasks,  and  selected  for  his  guest  the  most  delicate 
portions  of  the  delicious  spicola  of  the  neighboring  sea,  and  the 
rich  flesh  of  the  wild  boar  of  the  Pontine  Marshes. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Montreal,  as  their  hunger  was  now  appeased, 
utell  me,  noble  Adrian,  how  fares  your  kinsman,  Signor 
Stephen?  A  brave  old  man  for  his  years." 

"  He  bears  him  as  the  youngest  of  us,"  answered  Adrian. 

"  Late  events  must  have  shocked  him  a  little,"  said  Mon- 
treal, with  an  arch  smile.  "  Ah  !  you  look  grave,  —  yet  com- 
mend my  foresight ;  I  was  the  first  who  prophesied  to  thy 
kinsman  the  rise  of  Cola  di  Rienzi.  He  seems  a  great  man, 
—  never  more  great  than  in  conciliating  the  Colonna  and  the 
Orsini." 

"  The  Tribune,"  returned  Adrian,  evasively,  "  is  certainly  a 
man  of  extraordinary  genius.  And  now,  seeing  him  command, 
my  only  wonder  is  how  he  ever  brooked  to  obey:  majesty 
seems  a  very  part  of  him." 

"  Men  who  win  power,  easily  put  on  its  harness,  dignity," 
answered  Montreal;  "and  if  I  hear  aright  —  pledge  me  to 
your  lady's  health  —  the  Tribune,  if  not  himself  nobly  born, 
will  soon  be  nobly  connected." 

"  He  is  already  married  to  a  Easelli,  an  old  Eoman  house," 
replied  Adrian. 

"  You  evade  my  pursuit,  —  Le  doulx  soupir  f  le  doulx  soupir  ! 
as  the  old  Cabestan  has  it,"  said  Montreal,  laughing.  "  Well, 
you  have  pledged  me  one  cup  to  your  lady,  pledge  another 
to  the  fair  Irene,  the  Tribune's  sister,  —  always  provided  they 
two  are  not  one.  You  smile,  and  shake  your  head." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  179 

"  I  do  not  disguise  from  you,  Sir  Knight,"  answered  Adrian, 
"that  when  my  present  embassy  is  over,  I  trust  the  alliance 
between  the  Tribune  and  a  Colonna  will  go  far  towards  the 
benefit  of  both." 

"  I  have  heard  rightly,  then,"  said  Montreal,  in  a  grave  and 
thoughtful  tone.  "  Bienzi's  power  must  indeed  be  great." 

"  Of  that  my  mission  is  a  proof.  Are  you  aware,  Signer  de 
Montreal,  that  Louis,  King  of  Hungary  — " 

"How!  what  of  him?" 

"  Has  referred  the  decision  of  the  feud  between  himself  and 
Johanna  of  Naples  respecting  the  death  of  her  royal  spouse, 
his  brother,  to  the  fiat  of  the  Tribune  ?  This  is  the  first  time, 
methinks,  since  the  death  of  Constantino  that  so  great  a  confi- 
dence and  so  high  a  charge  were  ever  intrusted  to  a  Roman ! " 

"By  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar,"  cried  Montreal,  cross- 
ing himself,  "  this  news  is  indeed  amazing !  The  fierce  Louis 
of  Hungary  waive  the  right  of  the  sword  and  choose  other 
umpire  than  the  field  of  battle ! " 

"And  this,"  continued  Adrian,  in  a  significant  tone,  "this  it 
was  which  induced  me  to  obey  your  courteous  summons.  I 
know,  brave  Montreal,  that  you  hold  intercourse  with  Louis. 
Louis  has  given  to  the  Tribune  the  best  pledge  of  his  amity 
and  alliance ;  will  you  do  wisely  if  you  — " 

"  Wage  war  with  the  Hungarian's  ally  ?  "  interrupted  Mon- 
treal. "This  you  were  about  to  add:  the  same  thought 
crossed  myself.  My  lord,  pardon  me:  Italians  sometimes 
invent  what  they  wish.  On  the  honor  of  a  Knight  of  the 
Empire,  these  tidings  are  the  naked  truth  ?  " 

"  By  my  honor,  and  on  the  Cross,"  answered  Adrian,  draw- 
ing himself  up;  "and  in  proof  thereof,  I  am  now  bound  to 
Naples  to  settle  with  the  Queen  the  preliminaries  of  the 
appointed  trial." 

"  Two  crowned  heads  before  the  tribunal  of  a  plebeian,  and 
one  a  defendant  against  the  charge  of  murder ! "  muttered 
Montreal ;  "the  news  might  well  amaze  me  ! " 

He  remained  musing  and  silent  a  little  while,  till,  looking 
up,  he  caught  Adeline's  tender  gaze  fixed  upon  him  with  that 
deep  solicitude  with  which  she  watched  the  outward  effect  of 


180  RIEXZI : 

schemes  and  projects  she  was  too  soft  to  desire  to  know,  and 
too  innocent  to  share. 

"  Lady  mine,"  said  the  Provei^al,  fondly,  "  how  sayest  thou  ? 
Must  we  abandon  our  mountain  castle  and  these  wild  wood- 
land scenes  for  the  dull  walls  of  a  city  ?  I  fear  me  so.  The 
Lady  Adeline,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Adrian,  "  is  of  a  sin- 
gular bias :  she  hates  the  gay  crowds  of  streets  and  thorough- 
fares, and  esteems  no  palace  like  the  solitary  outlaw's  hold. 
Yet  methinks  she  might  outshine  all  the  faces  of  Italy,  —  thy 
mistress,  Lord  Adrian,  of  course,  excepted." 

"  It  is  an  exception  which  only  a  lover,  and  that  too 
a  betrothed  lover,  would  dare  to  make,"  replied  Adrian, 
gallantly. 

"  Nay,"  said  Adeline,  in  a  voice  singularly  sweet  and  clear, 
"  nay,  I  know  well  at  what  price  to  value  my  lord's  flattery  and 
Signer  di  Castello's  courtesy.  But  you  are  bound,  Sir  Knight, 
to  a  court  that,  if  fame  speak  true,  boasts  in  its  Queen  the  very 
miracle  and  mould  of  beauty." 

"  It  is  some  years  since  I  saw  the  Queen  of  Naples,"  answered 
Adrian ;  "  and  I  little  dreamed  then,  when  I  gazed  upon  that 
angel  face,  that  I  should  live  to  hear  her  accused  of  the  foulest 
murder  that  ever  stained  even  Italian  royalty." 

"  And  as  if  resolved  to  prove  her  guilt,"  said  Montreal,  "  ere 
long  be  sure  she  will  marry  the  very  man  who  did  the  deed. 
Of  this  I  have  certain  proof." 

Thus  conversing,  the  Knights  wore  away  the  daylight,  and 
beheld  from  the  open  tent  the  sun  cast  his  setting  glow  over 
the  purple  sea.  Adeline  had  long  retired  from  the  board,  and 
they  now  saw  her  seated  with  her  handmaids  on  a  mound  by 
the  beach,  while  the  sound  of  her  lute  faintly  reached  their  ears. 
As  Montreal  caught  the  air,  he  turned  from  the  converse,  and 
sighing,  half  shaded  his  face  with  his  hand.  Somehow  or  other 
the  two  Knights  had  worn  away  all  the  little  jealousy  or  pique 
which  they  had  conceived  against  each  other  at  Rome.  Both  im- 
bued with  the  soldier-like  spirit  of  the  age,  their  contest  in  the 
morning  had  served  to  inspire  them  with  that  strange  kind  of 
respect,  and  even  cordiality,  which  one  brave  man  even  still 
(how  much  more  at  that  day ! )  feels  for  another,  whose  courage 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  181 

lie  has  proved  while  vindicating  his  own.  It  is  like  the  discov- 
ery of  a  congenial  sentiment  hitherto  latent,  and  in  a  life  of 
camps  often  establishes  sudden  and  lasting  friendship  in  the 
very  lap  of  enmity.  This  feeling  had  been  ripened  by  their 
subsequent  familiar  intercourse,  and  was  increased  on  Adrian's 
side  by  the  feeling  that  in  convincing  Montreal  of  the  policy 
of  withdrawing  from  the  Roman  territories,  he  had  obtained  an 
advantage  that  well  repaid  whatever  danger  and  delay  he  had 
undergone. 

The  sigh  and  the  altered  manner  of  Montreal  did  not  escape 
Adrian,  and  he  naturally  connected  it  with  something  relating 
to  her  whose  music  had  been  its  evident  cause. 

"Yon  lovely  dame,"  said  he,  gently,  "touches  the  lute  with 
an  exquisite  and  fairy  hand,  and  that  plaintive  air  seems  to  my 
ear  as  of  the  minstrelsy  of  Provence." 

"  It  is  the  air  I  taught  her,"  said  Montreal,  sadly,  "  married 
as  it  is  to  indifferent  words,  with  which  I  first  wooed  a  heart 
that  should  never  have  given  itself  to  me.  Ay,  young  Colonna, 
many  a  night  has  my  boat  been  moored  beneath  the  starlit 
Sorgia  that  washes  her  proud  father's  halls,  and  my  voice 
awaked  the  stillness  of  the  waving  sedges  with  a  soldier's  sere- 
nade. Sweet  memories,  bitter  fruit ! " 

"  Why  bitter  ?  ye  love  each  other  still." 

"  But  I  am  vowed  to  celibacy,  and  Adeline  de  Courval  is  leman 
where  she  should  be  wedded  dame.  Methinks  I  fret  at  that 
thought  even  more  than  she,  —  dear  Adeline ! " 

"  Your  lady,  as  all  would  guess,  is  then  nobly  born  ?  " 

"  She  is,"  answered  Montreal,  with  a  deep  and  evident  feel- 
ing which,  save  in  love,  rarely,  if  ever,  crossed  his  hardy  breast, 
"she  is.  Our  tale  is  a  brief  one:  We  loved  each  other  as 
children.  Her  family  was  wealthier  than  mine  ;  we  were  sep- 
arated. I  was  given  to  understand  that  she  abandoned  me.  I 
despaired,  and  in  despair  I  took  the  cross  of  St.  John.  Chance 
threw  us  again  together.  I  learned  that  her  love  was  unde- 
cayed,  poor  child !  —  she  was  even  then,  sir,  but  a  child !  I 
wild,  reckless,  and  not  unskilled,  perhaps,  in  the  arts  that  woo 
and  win.  She  could  not  resist  my  suit  or  her  own  affection ; 
we  fled.  In  those  words  you  see  the  thread  of  my  after-history. 


182  RIENZI : 

My  sword  and  my  Adeline  were  all  my  fortune.  Society 
frowned  on  us.  The  Church  threatened  my  soul,  the  Grand 
Master  my  life.  I  became  a  knight  of  fortune.  Fate  and  my 
right  hand  favored  me.  I  have  made  those  who  scorned  me 
tremble  at  my  name.  That  name  shall  yet  blaze,  a  star  or  a 
meteor,  in  the  front  of  troubled  nations,  and  I  may  yet  win  by 
force  from  the  Pontiff  the  dispensation  refused  to  my  prayers. 
On  the  same  day  I  may  offer  Adeline  the  diadem  and  the  ring. 
Eno'  of  this.  You  marked  Adeline's  cheek :  seems  it  not  deli- 
cate ?  I  like  not  that  changeful  flush ;  and  she  moves  languidly, 

—  her  step  that  was  so  blithe !  " 

"  Change  of  scene  and  the  mild  South  will  soon  restore  her 
health,"  said  Adrian ;  "  and  in  your  peculiar  life  she  is  so  little 
brought  in  contact  with  others,  especially  of  her  own  sex,  that 
I  trust  she  is  but  seldom  made  aware  of  whatever  is  painful  in 
her  situation.  And  woman's  love,  Montreal,  as  we  both  have 
learned,  is  a  robe  that  wraps  her  from  many  a  storm !  " 

"  You  speak  kindly,"  returned  the  Knight ;  "  but  you  know 
not  all  our  cause  of  grief.  Adeline's  father,  a  proud  sieur,  died, 

—  they  said  of  a  broken  heart ;  but  old  men  die  of  many  an- 
other disease  than  that !     The  mother,  a  dame  who  boasted 
her  descent  from  princes,  bore  the  matter  more  sternly  than 
the  sire,  clamored  for  revenge, — which  was  odd,  for  she  is  as 
religious  as  a  Dominican,  and  revenge  is  not  Christian  in  a 
woman,  though  it  is  knightly  in  a  man  1    Well,  my  lord,  we  had 
one  boy,  our  only  child :  he  was  Adeline's  solace  in  my  absence ; 
his  pretty  ways  were  worth  the  world  to  her !     She  loved  him 
so  that,  but  he  had  her  eyes  and  looked  like  her  when  he  slept, 
I  should  have  been  jealous  !     He  grew  up  in  our  wild  life  strong 
and  comely :  the  young  rogue,  he  would  have  been  a  brave 
knight !     My  evil  stars  led  me  to  Milan,  where  I  had  business 
with  the  ViscontL     One  bright  morning  in  June  our  boy  was 
stolen :  verily  that  June  was  like  a  December  to  us ! " 

"  Stolen !     How  ?     By  whom  ?  " 

"  The  first  question  is  answered  easily.  The  boy  was  with  his 
nurse  in  the  courtyard,  the  idle  wench  left  him  for  but  a  min- 
ute or  two  —  so  she  avers — to  fetch  him  some  childish  toy ; 
when  she  returned  he  was  gone,  —  not  a  trace  left,  save  his 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  183 

pretty  cap  with  the  plume  in  it !  Poor  Adeline,  many  a  time 
have  I  found  her  kissing  that  relic  till  it  was  wet  with  tears  !  " 

"  A  strange  fortune,  in  truth.     But  what  interest  could  —  " 

"I  will  tell  you,"  interrupted  Montreal,  "the  only  conjec- 
ture I  could  form :  Adeline's  mother,  on  learning  we  had  a  son, 
sent  to  Adeline  a  letter  that  wellnigh  broke  her  heart,  reproach- 
ing her  for  her  love  to  me,  and  so  forth,  as  if  that  had  made 
her  the  vilest  of  the  sex.  She  bade  her  take  compassion  on 
her  child,  and  not  bring  him  up  to  a  robber's  life,  —  so  was  she 
pleased  to  style  the  bold  career  of  Walter  de  Montreal.  She 
offered  to  rear  the  child  in  her  own  dull  halls,  and  fit  him,  no 
doubt,  for  a  shaven  pate  and  a  monk's  cowl.  She  chafed  much 
that  a  mother  would  not  part  with  her  treasure !  She  alone, 
partly  in  revenge,  partly  in  silly  compassion  for  Adeline's  child, 
partly,  it  may  be,  from  some  pious  fanaticism,  could,  it  so  seemed 
to  me,  have  robbed  us  of  our  boy.  On  inquiry  I  learned  from 
the  nurse  —  who  but  that  she  was  of  the  same  sex  as  Adeline, 
should  have  tasted  my  dagger  —  that  in  their  walks  a  woman 
of  advanced  years,  but  seemingly  of  humble  rank  (that  might 
be  disguise !  )  had  often  stopped,  and  caressed,  and  admired  the 
child.  I  repaired  at  once  to  France,  sought  the  old  Castle  of 
De  Courval ;  it  had  passed  to  the  next  heir,  and  the  old  widow 
was  gone,  none  knew  whither,  but,  it  was  conjectured,  to  take 
the  veil  in  some  remote  convent." 

"  And  you  never  saw  her  since  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  Rome,"  answered  Montreal,  turning  pale.  "  When 
last  there  I  chanced  suddenly  upon  her ;  and  then  at  length  I 
learned  my  boy's  fate  and  the  truth  of  my  own  surmise,  —  she 
confessed  to  the  theft,  —  and  my  child  was  dead !  I  have  not 
dared  to  tell  Adeline  of  this ;  it  seems  to  me  as  if  it  would  be 
like  plucking  the  shaft  from  the  wounded  side,  and  she  would 
die  at  once,  bereft  of  the  uncertainty  that  rankles  within  her. 
She  has  still  a  hope,  —  it  comforts  her ;  though  my  heart  bleeds 
when  I  think  on  its  vanity.  Let  this  pass,  my  Colonna." 

And  Montreal  started  to  his  feet  as  if  he  strove,  by  a  strong 
effort,  to  shake  off  the  weakness  that  had  crept  over  him  in 
his  narration. 

"  Think  no  more  of  it.     Life  is  short ;  its  thorns  are  many : 


184  RIENZI: 

let  us  not  neglect  any  of  its  flowers.  This  is  piety  and  wis- 
dom too.  Nature,  that  meant  me  to  struggle  and  to  toil, 
gave  me,  happily,  the  sanguine  heart  and  the  elastic  soul  of 
France ;  and  I  have  lived  long  enough  to  own  that  to  die  young 
is  not  an  evil.  Come,  Lord  Adrian,  let  us  join  my  lady  ere 
you  part,  if  part  you  must;  the  moon  will  be  up  soon,  and 
Fondi  is  but  a  short  journey  hence.  You  know  that  though  I 
admire  not  your  Petrarch,  you  with  more  courtesy  laud  our 
Provencal  ballads,  and  you  must  hear  Adeline  sing  one,  that 
you  may  prize  them  the  more.  The  race  of  the  Troubadours 
is  dead,  but  the  minstrelsy  survives  the  minstrel !  " 

Adrian,  who  scarce  knew  what  comfort  to  administer  to  the 
affliction  of  his  companion,  was  somewhat  relieved  by  the 
change  in  his  mood,  though  his  more  grave  and  sensitive 
nature  was  a  little  startled  at  its  suddenness.  But,  as  we  have 
before  seen,  Montreal's  spirit  (and  this  made  perhaps  its  fas- 
cination) was  as  a  varying  and  changeful  sky :  the  gayest  sun- 
shine and  the  fiercest  storm  swept  over  it  in  rapid  alternation ; 
and  elements  of  singular  might  and  grandeur,  which,  properly 
directed  and  concentrated,  would  have  made  him  the  blessing 
and  glory  of  his  time,  were  wielded  with  a  boyish  levity, 
roused  into  war  and  desolation,  or  lulled  into  repose  and 
smoothness,  with  all  the  suddenness  of  chance  and  all  the 
fickleness  of  caprice. 

Sauntering  down  to  the  beach,  the  music  of  Adeline's  lute 
sounded  more  distinctly  in  their  ears ;  and  involuntarily  they 
hushed  their  steps  upon  the  rich  and  odorous  turf  as,  in  a 
voice,  though  not  powerful,  marvellously  sweet  and  clear,  and 
well  adapted  to  the  simple  fashion  of  the  words  and  melody, 
she  sang  the  following  stanzas :  — 

LAY  OF  THE  LADY  OF  PROVENCE. 

1. 

Ah,  why  art  thou  sad,  my  heart  ?     Why 

Darksome  and  lonely  ? 
Frowns  the  face  of  the  happy  sky 

Over  thee  only  1 

Ah  me,  ah  me ! 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  185 

Bender  to  joy  the  earth  ! 
Grief  shuns,  not  envies,  Mirth ; 
But  leave  one  quiet  spot 
Where  Mirth  may  enter  not, 
To  sigh,  Ah  me  ! 

Ah  me ! 


As  a  bird,  though  the  sky  be  clear, 

Feels  the  storm  lower, 
My  soul  bodes  the  tempest  near 
In  the  sunny  hour. 

Ah  me,  ah  me  ! 
Be  glad  while  yet  we  may  ! 
I  bid  thee,  my  heart,  be  gay ; 
And  still  I  know  not  why,  — 
Thou  answerest  with  a  sigh, 
(Fond  heart !  )     Ah  me !  — 
Ah  me ! 

3. 

As  this  twilight  o'er  the  skies, 

Doubt  brings  the  sorrow ; 
Who  knows  when  the  daylight  dies, 
What  waits  the  morrow  1 

Ah  me,  ah  me  ! 
Be  blithe,  be  blithe,  my  lute, 
Thy  strings  will  soon  be  mute ! 
Be  blithe  —  hark !  while  it  dies, 
The  note  forewarning,  sighs 
Its  last  —  Ah  me  !  — 
Ah  me ! 


"  My  own  Adeline,  my  sweetest  night-bird,"  half-whispered 
Montreal,  and  softly  approaching,  he  threw  himself  at  his 
lady's  feet,  "  thy  song  is  too  sad  for  this  golden  eve." 

"No  sound  ever  went  to  the  heart,"  said  Adrian,  "whose 
arrow  was  not  feathered  by  sadness.  True  sentiment, 
Montreal,  is  twin  with  melancholy,  though  not  with  gloom." 

The  lady  looked  softly  and  approvingly  up  at  Adrian's  face : 
she  was  pleased  with  its  expression;  she  was  pleased  yet 
more  with  words  of  which  women  rather  than  men  would 


186  RIENZI : 

acknowledge  the  truth.  Adrian  returned  the  look  with  one  of 
deep  and  eloquent  sympathy  and  respect,  —  in  fact,  the  short 
story  he  had  heard  from  Montreal  had  interested  him  deeply 
in  her ;  and  never  to  the  brilliant  queen,  to  whose  court  he 
was  bound,  did  his  manner  wear  so  chivalric  and  earnest  a 
homage  as  it  did  to  that  lone  and  ill-fated  lady  on  the  twilight 
shores  of  Terracina. 

Adeline  blushed  slightly  and  sighed ;  and  then,  to  break  the 
awkwardness  of  a  pause  which  had  stolen  over  them,  as 
Montreal,  unheeding  the  last  remark  of  Adrian,  was  tuning 
the  strings  of  the  lute,  she  said :  "  Of  course  the  Signor  di 
Castello  shares  the  universal  enthusiasm  for  Petrarch  ?  " 

"  Ay,"  cried  Montreal,  "  my  lady  is  Petrarch  mad,  like  the 
rest  of  them ;  but  all  I  know  is,  that  never  did  belted  knight 
and  honest  lover  woo  in  such  fantastic  and  tortured  strains." 

"  In  Italy,"  answered  Adrian,  "  common  language  is  exaggera- 
tion ;  but  even  your  own  Troubadour  poetry  might  tell  you  that 
love,  ever  seeking  a  new  language  of  its  own,  cannot  but  often 
run  into  what  to  all  but  lovers  seems  distortion  and  conceit." 

"Come,  dear  Signor,"  said  Montreal,  placing  the  lute  in 
Adrian's  hands,  "  let  Adeline  be  the  umpire  between  us,  which 
music,  yours  or  mine,  can  woo  the  more  blandly." 

"Ah!"  said  Adrian,  laughing,  "I  fear  me,  Sir  Knight,  you 
have  already  bribed  the  umpire." 

Montreal's  eyes  and  Adeline's  met,  and  in  that  gaze  Adeline 
forgot  all  her  sorrows. 

With  a  practised  and  skilful  hand  Adrian  touched  the  strings ; 
and  selecting  a  song  which  was  less  elaborate  than  •  those 
mostly  in  vogue  amongst  his  countrymen,  though  still  con- 
ceived in  the  Italian  spirit,  and  in  accordance  with  the  senti- 
ment he  had  previously  expressed  to  Adeline,  he  sang  as 
follows :  — 

LOVE'S  EXCUSE  FOR  SADNESS. 

Chide  not,  beloved,  if  oft  with  thee 

I  feel  not  rapture  wholly  ; 
For  aye  the  heart  that 's  fill'd  with  love 

Runs  o'er  in  melancholy. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  187 

To  streams  that  glide  in  noon,  the  shade 

From  summer  skies  is  given ; 
So  if  my  breast  reflects  the  cloud, 

'  T  is  but  the  cloud  of  heaven ! 
Thine  image,  glass'd  within  my  soul, 

So  well  the  mirror  keepeth 
That,  chide  me  not  if  with  the  light 

The  shadow  also  sleepeth. 

"  And  now,"  said  Adrian,  as  he  concluded,  "  the  lute  is  to 
you:  I  but  prelude  your  prize." 

The  Provensal  laughed,  and  shook  his  head:  "With  any 
other  umpire  I  had  had  my  lute  broken  on  my  own  head  for 
my  conceit  in  provoking  such  a  rival ;  but  I  must  not  shrink 
from  a  contest  I  have  myself  provoked,  even  though  in  one 
day  twi-ce  defeated."  And  with  that,  in  a  deep  and  exquisitely 
melodious  voice,  which  wanted  only  more  scientific  culture  to 
have  challenged  any  competition,  the  Knight  of  St.  John 
poured  forth 

THE  LAY  OF  THE  TROUBADOUR. 

1. 

Gentle  river,  the  moonbeam  is  hush'd  on  thy  tide, 
On  thy  pathway  of  light  to  my  lady  I  glide. 
My  boat,  where  the  stream  laves  the  castle,  I  moor,  — 
All  at  rest  save  the  maid  and  her  young  Troubadour  ! 
As  the  stars  to  the  waters  that  bore 

My  bark,  to  my  spirit  thou  art ; 
Heaving  yet,  see  it  bound  to  the  shore, 
So  moor'd  to  thy  beauty  my  heart,  — 
Bel'  amie,  bel'  amie,  bel'  amie  ! 

2. 

Wilt  thou  fly  from  the  world  ?     It  hath  wealth  for  the  vain ; 
But  Love  breaks  his  bond  when  there  's  gold  in  the  chain. 
Wilt  thou  fly  from  the  world  1    It  hath  courts  for  the  proud  ; 
But  Love,  born  in  caves,  pines  to  death  in  the  crowd. 
Were  this  bosom  thy  world,  dearest  one, 
Thy  world  could  not  fail  to  be  bright ; 
For  thou  shouldst  thyself  be  its  sun, 
And  what  spot  could  be  dim  in  thy  light,  — 
Bel'  amie,  bel'  amie,  bel'  amie  1 


188  R1ENZI : 

3. 

The  rich  and  the  great  woo  thee,  dearest ;  and  poor, 
Though  his  fathers  were  princes,  thy  young  Troubadour ! 
But  his  heart  never  quail'd,  save  to  thee,  his  ador'd  ;. 
There  's  no  guile  in  his  lute,  and  no  stain  on  his  sword. 
Ah !  I  reck  not  what  sorrows  I  know, 
Could  I  still  on  thy  solace  confide ; 
And  I  care  not,  though  earth  be  my  foe, 
If  thy  soft  heart  be  found  by  my  side,  — 
Bel'  amie,  bel  amie,  bel'  amie  1 

4. 

The  maiden  she  blnsh'd,  and  the  maiden  she  sigh'd. 
Not  a  cloud  in  the  sky,  not  a  gale  on  the  tide ; 
But  though  tempest  had  rag'd  on  the  wave  and  the  wind, 
That  castle,  methinks,  had  been  still  left  behind ! 
Sweet  lily,  though  bow'd  by  the  blast 

(To  this  bosom  transplanted)  since  then, 
Wouldst  thon  change,  could  we  call  the  past, 
To  the  rock  from  thy  garden  again,  — 
Bel'  amie,  bel'  amie,  bel'  amie  f 


Thus  they  alternated  the  time  with  converse  and  song  as 
the  wooded  hills  threw  their  sharp,  long  shadows  over  the  sea ; 
while  from  many  a  mound  of  waking  flowers,  and  many  a  copse 
of  citron  and  orange,  relieved  by  the  dark  and  solemn  aloe, 
stole  the  summer  breeze,  laden  with  mingled  odors ;  and  over 
the  seas,  colored  by  the  slow-fading  hues  of  purple  and  rose, 
that  the  sun  had  long  bequeathed  to  the  twilight,  flitted  the 
gay  fire-flies  that  sparkle  along  that  enchanted  coast.  At  length 
the  moon  slowly  rose  above  the  dark  forest-steeps,  gleaming 
on  the  gay  pavilion  and  glittering  pennon  of  Montreal,  on  the 
verdant  sward,  the  polished  mail  of  the  soldiers,  stretched  on 
the  grass  in  various  groups,  half-shaded  by  oaks  and  cypress, 
and  the  war-steeds  grazing  peaceably  together,  —  a  wild  mix- 
ture of  the  Pastoral  and  the  Iron  time. 

Adrian,  reluctantly  reminded  of  his  journey,  rose  to  depart. 

"I  fear,"  said  he  to  Adeline,  "that  I  have  already  de- 
tained you  too  late  in  the  night  air ;  but  selfishness  is  little 
considerate." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  189 

"Nay,  you  see  we  are  prudent,"  said  Adeline,  pointing  to 
Montreal's  mantle,  which  his  provident  hand  had  long  since 
drawn  around  her  form ;  "  but  if  you  must  part,  farewell,  and 
success  attend  you  ! " 

"  We  may  meet  again,  I  trust,"  said  Adrian. 

Adeline  sighed  gently ;  and  the  Colonna,  gazing  on  her  face 
by  the  moonlight,  to  which  it  was  slightly  raised,  was  pain- 
fully struck  by  its  almost  transparent  delicacy.  Moved  by  his 
compassion,  ere  he  mounted  his  steed  he  drew  Montreal  aside. 
"Forgive  me  if  I  seem  presumptuous,"  said  he ;  "but  to  one  so 
noble  this  wild  life  is  scarce  a  fitting  career.  I  know  that  in 
our  time  War  consecrates  all  his  children ;  but  surely  a  settled 
rank  in  the  court  of  the  Emperor,  or  an  honorable  reconciliation 
with  your  knightly  brethren,  were  better  —  " 

"Than  a  Tartar  camp  and  a  brigand's  castle,"  interrupted 
Montreal,  with  some  impatience :  "  this  you  were  about  to  say. 
You  are  mistaken.  Society  thrust  me  from  her  bosom:  let 
society  take  the  fruit  it  hath  sown.  '  A  fixed  rank,'  say  you  ? 
Some  subaltern  office,  to  fight  at  other  men's  command !  You 
know  me  not:  Walter  de  Montreal  was  not  formed  to  obey. 
War  when  I  will,  and  rest  when  I  list,  is  the  motto  of  my 
escutcheon.  Ambition  proffers  me  rewards  you  wot  not  of; 
and  I  am  of  the  mould,  as  of  the  race,  of  those  whose  swords 
have  conquered  thrones.  For  the  rest,  your  news  of  the  alli- 
ance of  Louis  of  Hungary  with  your  Tribune  makes  it  neces- 
sary for  the  friend  of  Louis  to  withdraw  from  all  feud  with 
Rome.  Ere  the  week  expire,  the  owl  and  the  bat  may  seek 
refuge  in  yon  gray  turrets." 

"But  your  lady?" 

"  Is  inured  to  change.  God  help  her,  and  temper  the  rough 
wind  to  the  lamb ! " 

"  Enough,  Sir  Knight ;  but  should  you  desire  a  sure  refuge 
at  Home  for  one  so  gentle  and  so  high-born,  by  the  right  hand 
of  a  knight  I  promise  a  safe  roof  and  an  honored  home  to  the 
Lady  Adeline." 

Montreal  pressed  the  offered  hand  to  his  heart ;  then  pluck- 
ing his  own  hastily  away,  drew  it  across  his  eyes  and  joined 
Adeline,  in  a  silence  that  showed  he  dared  not  trust  himself  to 


190  RIENZI. 

speak.  In  a  few  moments  Adrian  and  his  train  were  on  the 
march ;  but  still  the  young  Colonna  turned  back,  to  gaze  once 
more  on  his  wild  host  and  that  lovely  lady,  as  they  themselves 
lingered  on  the  moonlit  sward,  while  the  sea  rippled  mournfully 
on  their  ears. 

It  was  not  many  months  after  that  date  that  the  name  of 
Fra  Moreale  scattered  terror  and  dismay  throughout  the  fair 
Campania.  The  right  hand  of  the  Hungarian  king  in  his 
invasion  of  Naples,  he  was  chosen  afterwards  vicar  (or  vice- 
gerent) of  Louis  in  Aversa ;  and  fame  and  fate  seemed  to  lead 
him  triumphantly  along  that  ambitious  career  which  he  had 
elected,  whether  bounded  by  the  scaffold  or  the  throne. 


BOOK  IV. 

THE  TRIUMPH  AND  THE  POMP. 

ALLORA  fama  e  paura  di  si  buono  reggimento  passa  in  ogni  terra.  —  Vita  di 
Cola  di  Rienzi,  lib.  i.  cap.  21. 

Then  the  fame  and  the  fear  of  that  so  good  government  passed  into  every 
land.  —  Life  of  Cola  di  Rienzi. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    BOY   ANGELO THE   DREAM    OF    NINA    FULFILLED. 

THE  thread  of  my  story  transports  us  back  to  Rome.  It  was 
in  a  small  chamber,  in  a  ruinous  mansion  by  the  base  of  Mount 
Aventine,  that  a  young  boy  sat,  one  evening,  with  a  woman  of 
a  tall  and  stately  form,  but  somewhat  bowed  both  by  infirmity 
and  years.  The  boy  was  of  a  fair  and  comely  presence,  and 
there  was  that  in  his  bold,  frank,  undaunted  carriage  which 
made  him  appear  older  than  he  was. 

The  old  woman,  seated  in  the  recess  of  the  deep  window,  was 
apparently  occupied  with  a  Bible  that  lay  open  on  her  knees ; 
but  ever  and  anon  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  gazed  on  her  young 
companion  with  a  sad  and  anxious  expression. 

"  Dame,"  said  the  boy,  who  was  busily  employed  in  hewing 
out  a  sword  of  wood,  "  I  would  you  had  seen  the  show  to-day. 
Why,  every  day  is  a  show  at  Rome  now !  It  is  show  enough 
to  see  the  Tribune  himself  on  his  white  steed  —  oh,  it  is  so 
beautiful  —  with  his  white  robes  all  studded  with  jewels.  But 
to-day,  as  I  have  just  been  telling  you,  the  Lady  Nina  took 
notice  of  me  as  I  stood  on  the  stairs  of  the  Capitol :  you  know, 
dame,  I  had  donned  my  best  blue  velvet  doublet." 


192  RIENZI : 

"  And  she  called  you  a  fair  boy,  and  asked  if  you  would  be 
her  little  page ;  and  this  has  turned  thy  brain,  silly  urchin  that 
thou  art  —  " 

"  But  the  words  are  the  least ;  if  you  saw  the  Lady  Nina, 
you  would  own  that  a  smile  from  her  might  turn  the  wisest 
head  in  Italy.  Oh,  how  I  should  like  to  serve  the  Tribune ! 
All  the  lads  of  my  age  are  mad  for  him.  How  they  will  stare, 
and  envy  me  at  school  to-morrow !  You  know  too,  dame,  that 
though  I  was  not  always  brought  up  at  Rome,  I  am  Roman. 
Every  Roman  loves  Rienzi." 

"  Ay,  for  the  hour ;  the  cry  will  soon  change.  This  vanity 
of  thine,  Angelo,  vexes  my  old  heart.  I  would  thou  wert 
humbler." 

"  Bastards  have  their  own  name  to  win,"  said  the  boy,  color- 
ing deeply.  "  They  twit  me  in  the  teeth  because  I  cannot  say 
who  my  father  and  mother  were." 

"  They  need  not,"  returned  the  dame,  hastily.  "  Thou  comest 
of  noble  blood  and  long  descent,  though,  as  I  have  told  thee 
often,  I  know  not  the  exact  names  of  thy  parents.  But  what 
art  thou  shaping  that  rough  sapling  of  oak  into  ?  " 

"A  sword,  dame,  to  assist  the  Tribune  against  the 
robbers." 

"  Alas  !  I  fear  me,  like  all  those  who  seek  power  in  Italy,  he 
is  more  likely  to  enlist  robbers  than  to  assail  them." 

"Why,  la  you  there,  you  live  so  shut  up  that  you  know  and 
hear  nothing,  or  you  would  have  learned  that  even  that  fiercest 
of  all  the  robbers,  Fra  Moreale,  has  at  length  yielded  to  the 
Tribune  and  fled  from  his  castle,  like  a  rat  from  a  falling 
house." 

"How,  how!"  cried  the  dame;  "what  say  you?  Has  this 
plebeian,  whom  you  call  the  Tribune,  has  he  boldly  thrown  the 
gage  to  that  dread  warrior,  and  has  Montreal  left  the  Roman 
territory  ?  " 

"  Ay,  it  is  the  talk  of  the  town.  But  Fra  Moreale  seems  as 
much  a  bugbear  to  you  as  to  e'er  a  mother  in  Rome.  Did  he 
ever  wrong  you,  dame  ?  " 

"  Yes  ! "  exclaimed  the  old  woman,  with  so  abrupt  a  fierceness 
that  even  that  hardy  boy  was  startled. 


THE   LAST   OF   THE  TRIBUNES.  193 

"  I  wish  I  could  meet  him,  then,"  said  he,  after  a  pause,  as 
he  nourished  his  mimic  weapon. 

"  Now  Heaven  forbid  !  He  is  a  man  ever  to  be  shunned  by 
thee,  whether  for  peace  or  war.  Say  again  this  good  Tribune 
holds  no  terms  with  the  Free  Lances." 

"  Say  it  again,  —  why  all  Kome  knows  it." 

"  He  is  pious  too,  I  have  heard ;  and  they  do  bruit  it  that  he 
sees  visions,  and  is  comforted  from  above,"  said  the  woman, 
speaking  to  herself.  Then,  turning  to  Angelo,  she  contin- 
ued: "Thou  wouldst  like  greatly  to  accept  the  Lady  Nina's 
proffer  ?  " 

"  Ah!  that  I  should,  dame,  if  you  could  spare  me." 

"  Child,"  replied  the  matron,  solemnly,  "  my  sand  is  nearly 
run,  and  my  wish  is  to  see  thee  placed  with  one  who  will  nur- 
ture thy  young  years  and  save  thee  from  a  life  of  license. 
That  done,  I  may  fulfil  my  vow  and  devote  the  desolate  rem- 
nant of  my  years  to  God.  I  will  think  more  of  this,  my  child. 
Not  under  such  a  plebeian's  roof  shouldst  thou  have  lodged, 
nor  from  a  stranger's  board  been  fed ;  but  at  Rome  my  last 
relative  worthy  of  the  trust  is  dead,  and,  at  the  worst,  obscure 
honesty  is  better  than  gaudy  crime.  Thy  spirit  troubles  me 
already.  Back,  my  child;  I  must  to  my  closet,  and  watch 
and  pray." 

Thus  saying,  the  old  woman,  repelling  the  advance  and 
silencing  the  muttered  and  confused  words  of  the  boy,  —  half 
affectionate  as  they  were,  yet  half  tetchy  and  wayward, — 
glided  from  the  chamber. 

The  boy  looked  abstractedly  at  the  closing  door,  and  then 
said  to  himself:  "The  dame  is  always  talking  riddles:  I 
wonder  if  she  knows  more  of  me  than  she  tells,  or  if  she  is 
any  way  akin  to  me.  I  hope  not,  for  I  don't  love  her  much,  — 
nor,  for  that  matter,  anything  else.  I  wish  she  would  place 
me  with  the  Tribune's  lady,  and  then  we  '11  see  who  among  the 
lads  will  call  Angelo  Villani  bastard." 

With  that  the  boy  fell  to  work  again  at  his  sword  with  re- 
doubled vigor.  In  fact,  the  cold  manner  of  this  female,  his 
sole  nurse,  companion,  substitute  for  parent,  had  repelled  his 
affections  without  subduing  his  temper ;  and  though  not  origi- 

VOL.    I.  —  13 


104  RIENZI: 

nally  of  evil  disposition,  Angelo  Villani  was  already  insolent, 
cunning,  and  revengeful,  —  but  not,  on  the  other  hand,  without 
a  quick  susceptibility  to  kindness  as  to  affront,  a  natural  acute- 
ness  of  understanding,  and  a  great  indifference  to  fear. 
Brought  up  in  quiet  affluence  rather  than  luxury,  and  living 
much  with  his  protector,  whom  he  knew  but  by  the  name  of 
Ursula,  his  bearing  was  graceful,  and  his  air  that  of  the  well 
born.  And  it  was  his  carriage,  perhaps,  rather  than  his  coun- 
tenance,  which  though  handsome,  was  more  distinguished  for 
intelligence  than  beauty,  which  had  attracted  the  notice  of  the 
Tribune's  bride.  His  education  was  that  of  one  reared  for  some 
scholastic  profession.  He  was  not  only  taught  to  read  and 
write,  but  had  been  even  instructed  in  the  rudiments  of  Latin. 
He  did  not,  however,  incline  to  these  studies  half  so  fondly  as 
to  the  games  of  his  companions,  or  the  shows  or  riots  in  the 
streets,  into  all  of  which  he  managed  to  thrust  himself,  and 
from  which  he  had  always  the  happy  dexterity  to  return  safe 
and  unscathed. 

The  next  morning  Ursula  entered  the  young  Angelo's  cham- 
ber. "  Wear  again  thy  blue  doublet  to-day,"  said  she ;  "  I 
would  have  thee  look  thy  best.  Thou  shalt  go  with  me  to  the 
palace." 

"  What,  to-day  ?  "  cried  the  boy  joyfully,  half  leaping  from 
his  bed.  "  Dear  dame  Ursula,  shall  I  really,  then,  belong  to 
the  train  of  the  great  Tribune's  lady  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  leave  the  old  woman  to  die  alone  !  Your  joy 
becomes  you,  —  but  ingratitude  is  in  your  blood.  Ingratitude  ! 
Oh !  it  has  burned  my  heart  into  ashes ;  and  yours,  boy,  can 
no  longer  find  a  fuel  in  the  dry,  crumbling  cinders." 

"  Dear  dame,  you  are  always  so  biting.  You  know  you  said 
you  wished  to  retire  into  a  convent,  and  I  was  too  troublesome 
a  charge  for  you.  But  you  delight  in  rebuking  me,  justly  or 
unjustly." 

"  My  task  is  over,"  said  Ursula,  with  a  deep-drawn  sigh. 

The  boy  answered  not ;  and  the  old  woman  retired  with  a 
heavy  step,  and,  it  may  be,  a  heavier  heart.  When  he  joined 
her  in  their  common  apartment,  he  observed  what  his  joy  had 
previously  blinded  him  to,  —  that  Ursula  did  not  wear  her 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  195 

usual  plain  and  sober  dress.  The  gold  chain,  rarely  assumed 
then  by  women  not  of  noble  birth,  —  though  in  the  other  sex 
affected  also  by  public  functionaries  and  wealthy  merchants,  — 
glittered  upon  a  robe  of  the  rich  flowered  stuffs  of  Venice,  and 
the  clasps  that  confined  the  vest  at  the  throat  and  waist  were 
adorned  with  jewels  of  no  common  price. 

Angelo's  eye  was  struck  by  the  change,  but  he  felt  a  more- 
manly  pride  in  remarking  that  the  old  lady  became  it  well. 
Her  air  and  mien  were  indeed  those  of  one  to  whom  such  gar- 
ments were  habitual;  and  they  seemed  that  day  more  than 
usually  austere  and  stately. 

She  smoothed  the  boy's  ringlets,  drew  his  short  mantle  more 
gracefully  over  his  shoulder,  and  then  placed  in  his  belt  a 
poniard  whose  handle  was  richly  studded,  and  a  purse  well 
filled  with  florins. 

"Learn  to  use  both  discreetly,"  said  she;  "and  whether 
I  live  or  die,  you  will  never  require  to  wield  the  poniard  to 
procure  the  gold." 

"  This,  then,"  cried  Angelo,  enchanted,  "  is  a  real  poniard  to 
fight  the  robbers  with !  Ah,  with  this  I  should  not  fear  Fra 
Moreale,  who  wronged  thee  so.  I  trust  I  may  yet  avenge  thee, 
though  thou  didst  rate  me  so  just  now  for  ingratitude." 

"  I  am  avenged.  Nourish  not  such  thoughts,  my  son ;  they 
are  sinful,  —  at  least  I  fear  so.  Draw  to  the  board  and  eat ; 
we  will  go  betimes,  as  petitioners  should  do." 

Angelo  had  soon  finished  his  morning  meal,  and  sallying 
with  Ursula  to  the  porch,  he  saw,  to  his  surprise,  four  of  those 
servitors  who  then  usually  attended  persons  of  distinction,  and 
who  were  to  be  hired  in  every  city,  for  the  convenience  of 
strangers  or  the  holiday  ostentation  of  the  gayer  citizens. 

"  How  grand  we  are  to-day ! "  said  he,  clapping  his  hands 
with  an  eagerness  which  Ursula  failed  not  to  reprove. 

"  It  is  not  for  vain  show,"  she  added,  "  which  true  nobility 
can  well  dispense  with,  but  that  we  may  the  more  readily  gain 
admittance  to  the  palace.  These  princes  of  yesterday  are  not 
easy  of  audience  to  the  over  humble." 

"  Oh !  but  you  are  wrong  this  time,"  said  the  boy.  "  The 
Tribune  gives  audience  to  all  men,  the  poorest  as  the  richest. 


196  RIENZI : 

Nay,  there  is  not  a  ragged  boor  or  a  bare-footed  friar  who  does 
not  win  access  to  him  sooner  than  the  proudest  baron.  That 's 
why  the  people  love  him  so.  And  he  devotes  one  day  of  the 
week  to  receiving  the  widows  and  the  orphans,  —  and  you 
know,  dame,  I  am  an  orphan." 

Ursula,  already  occupied  with  her  own  thoughts,  did  not 
answer,  and  scarcely  heard,  the  boy ;  but  leaning  on  his  young 
arm,  and  preceded  by  the  footmen  to  clear  the  way,  passed 
slowly  towards  the  palace  of  the  Capitol. 

A  wonderful  thing  would  it  have  been  to  a  more  observant 
eye  to  note  the  change  which  two  or  three  short  months  of  the 
stern  b\it  salutary  and  wise  rule  of  the  Tribune  had  effected  in 
the  streets  of  Rome.  You  no  longer  beheld  the  gaunt  and  mail- 
clad  forms  of  foreign  mercenaries  stalking  through  the  vistas, 
or  grouped  in  lazy  insolence  before  the  embattled  porches  of 
some  gloomy  palace.  The  shops,  that  in  many  quarters  had 
been  closed  for  years,  were  again  open,  glittering  with  wares 
and  bustling  with  trade.  The  thoroughfares,  formerly  either 
silent  as  death  or  crossed  by  some  affrighted  and  solitary  pas- 
senger with  quick  steps,  and  eyes  that  searched  every  corner, 
or  resounding  with  the  roar  of  a  pauper  rabble  or  the  open 
feuds  of  savage  nobles,  now  exhibited  the  regular  and  whole- 
some and  mingled  streams  of  civilized  life,  whether  bound  to 
pleasure  or  to  commerce.  Carts  and  wagons,  laden  with  goods 
which  had  passed  in  safety  by  the  dismantled  holds  of  the 
robbers  of  the  Campagna,  rattled  cheerfully  over  the  path- 
ways. "  Never,  perhaps,"  —  to  use  the  translation  adapted 
from  the  Italian  authorities  by  a  modern  and  by  no  means 
a  partial  historian, 1  —  "  never,  perhaps,  has  the  energy  and 
effect  of  a  single  mind  been  more  remarkably  felt  than  in  the 
sudden  reformation  of  Rome  by  the  Tribune  Rienzi.  A  den 
of  robbers  was  converted  to  the  discipline  of  a  camp  or  convent. 
!  In  this  time,'  says  the  historian, 2  '  did  the  woods  begin  to 
rejoice  that  they  were  no  longer  infested  with  robbers ;  the 
oxen  began  to  plough ;  the  pilgrims  visited  the  sanctuaries  ; 8 

1  Gibbon.  2  Vita  di  Cola  di  Rienzi,  lib.  i.  c.  9. 

8  Gibbon ;  the  words  in  the  original  are  ft  pellegrini  cominciaro  a  fere  la  cerca 
per  la  santuaria. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  197 

the  roads  and  inns  were  replenished  with  travellers :  trade, 
plenty,  and  good  faith  were  restored  in  the  markets;  and  a 
purse  of  gold  might  be  exposed  without  danger  in  the  midst 
of  the  highways.'" 

Amidst  all  these  evidences  of  comfort  and  security  to  the 
people  some  dark  and  discontented  countenances  might  be 
seen  mingled  in  the  crowd ;  and  whenever  one  who  wore  the 
livery  of  the  Colonna  or  the  Orsini  felt  himself  jostled  by  the 
throng,  a  fierce  hand  moved  involuntarily  to  the  sword-belt, 
and  a  half-suppressed  oath  was  ended  with  an  indignant  sigh. 
Here  and  there  too  —  contrasting  the  redecorated,  refurnished, 
and  smiling  shops  —  heaps  of  rubbish  before  the  gate  of  some 
haughty  mansion  testified  the  abasement  of  fortifications, 
which  the  owner  irnpotently  resented  as  a  sacrilege.  Through 
such  streets  and  such  throngs  did  the  party  we  accompany 
wend  their  way,  till  they  found  themselves  amidst  crowds, 
assembled  before  the  entrance  of  the  Capitol.  The  officers 
there  stationed  kept,  however,  so  discreet  and  dexterous  an 
order  that  they  were  not  long  detained;  and  now,  in  the 
broad  place  or  court  of  that  memorable  building,  they  saw 
the  open  doors  of  the  great  justice-hall,  guarded  but  by  a  sin- 
gle sentinel,  and  in  which,  for  six  hours  daily,  did  the  Tri- 
bune hold  his  court;  for,  "patient  to  hear,  swift  to  redress, 
inexorable  to  punish,  his  tribunal  was  always  accessible  to  the 
poor  and  stranger."1 

Not,  however,  to  that  hall  did  the  party  bend  its  way,  but 
to  the  entrance  which  admitted  to  the  private  apartments  of 
the  palace.  And  here  the  pomp,  the  gaud,  the  more  than  regal 
magnificence  of  the  residence  of  the  Tribune,  strongly  contrast- 
ed the  patriarchal  simplicity  which  marked  his  justice  court. 

Even  Ursula,  not  unaccustomed,  of  yore  to  the  luxurious 
state  of  Italian  and  French  principalities,  seemed  roused  into 
surprise  at  the  hall  crowded  with  retainers  in  costly  liveries, 
the  marble  and  gilded  columns  wreathed  with  flowers,  and  the 
gorgeous  banners,  wrought  with  the  blended  arms  of  the 
Republican  City  and  the  Pontifical  See,  which  blazed  aloft 
and  around. 

,    l  Gibbon. 


198  RIENZI : 

Scarce  knowing  whom  to  address  in  such  an  assemblage, 
Ursula  was  relieved  from  her  perplexity  by  an  officer  attired 
in  a  suit  of  crimson  and  gold,  who,  with  a  grave  and  formal 
decorum,  which  indeed  reigned  throughout  the  whole  retinue, 
demanded,  respectfully,  whom  she  sought.  "The  Signora 
Nina ! "  replied  Ursula,  drawing  up  her  stately  person  with 
a  natural,  though  somewhat  antiquated,  dignity.  There  was 
something  foreign  in  the  accent,  which  influenced  the  officer's 
answer. 

"  To-day,  madam,  I  fear  that  the  Signora  receives  only  the 
Roman  ladies.  To-morrow  is  that  appointed  for  all  foreign 
dames  of  distinction." 

Ursula,  with  a  slight  impatience  of  tone,  replied :  "  My 
business  is  of  that  nature  which  is  welcome  on  any  day  at 
palaces.  I  come,  Signor,  to  lay  certain  presents  at  the  Sig- 
nora's  feet,  which  I  trust  she  will  deign  to  accept." 

"And  say,  Signor,"  added  the  boy,  abruptly,  "that 
Angelo  Villani,  whom  the  Lady  Nina  honored  yesterday 
with  her  notice,  is  no  stranger,  but  a  Roman,  and  comes, 
as  she  bade  him,  to  proffer  to  the  Signora  his  homage  and 
devotion." 

The  grave  officer  could  not  refrain  a  smile  at  the  pert,  yet 
not  ungraceful,  boldness  of  the  boy. 

"  I  remember  me,  Master  Angelo  Villani,"  he  replied,  "  that 
the  Lady  Nina  spoke  to  you  by  the  great  staircase.  Madam, 
I  will  do  your  errand.  Please  to  follow  me  to  an  apartment 
more  fitting  your  sex  and  seeming." 

With  that  the  officer  led  the  way  across  the  hall  to  a  broad 
staircase  of  white  marble,  along  the  centre  of  which  were  laid 
those  rich  Eastern  carpets  which  at  that  day,  when  rushes 
strewed  the  chambers  of  an  English  monarch,  were  already 
common  to  the  greater  luxury  of  Italian  palaces.  Opening  a 
door  at  the  first  flight,  he  ushered  Ursula  and  her  young 
charge  into  a  lofty  ante-chamber  hung  with  arras  of  wrought 
velvets;  while  over  the  opposite  door,  through  which  the 
officer  now  vanished,  were  blazoned  the  armorial  bearings 
which  the  Tribune  so  constantly  introduced  in  all  his  pomp, 
not  more  from  the  love  of  show  than  from  his  politic  desire 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUXES.  199 

to  mingle  with  the  keys  of  the  Pontiff  the  heraldic  insignia  of 
the  Kepublic. 

"  Philip  of  Valois  is  not  housed  like  this  man ! "  muttered 
Ursula.  "If  this  last,  I  shall  have  done  better  for  my  charge 
than  I  recked  of." 

The  officer  soon  returned,  and  led  them  across  an  apartment 
of  vast  extent,  which  was  indeed  the  great  reception-chamber 
of  the  palace.  Four  and  twenty  columns  of  the  Oriental  ala- 
baster which  had  attested  the  spoils  of  the  later  Emperors, 
and  had  been  disinterred  from  forgotten  ruins  to  grace  the 
palace  of  the  Eeviver  of  the  old  Republic,  supported  the  light 
roof,  which,  half  Gothic,  half  classic,  in  its  architecture,  was 
inlaid  with  gilded  and  purple  mosaics.  The  tessellated  floor 
was  covered  in  the  centre  with  cloth  of  gold,  the  walls  were 
clothed,  at  intervals,  with  the  same  gorgeous  hangings,  re- 
lieved by  panels  freshly  painted  in  the  most  glowing  colors, 
with  mystic  and  symbolical  designs.  At  the  upper  end  of 
this  royal  chamber,  two  steps  ascended  to  the  place  of  the 
Tribune's  throne,  above  which  was  the  canopy  wrought  with 
the  eternal  armorial  bearings  of  the  Pontiff  and  the  City. 

Traversing  this  apartment,  the  officer  opened  the  door  at  its 
extremity,  which  admitted  to  a  small  chamber  crowded  with 
pages  in  rich  dresses  of  silver  and  blue  velvet.  There  were 
few  amongst  them  older  than  Angelo,  and  from  their  general 
beauty  they  seemed  the  very  flower  and  blossom  of  the  city. 

Short  time  had  Angelo  to  gaze  on  his  comrades  that  were 
to  be  ;  another  minute,  and  he  and  his  protectress  were  in  the 
presence  of  the  Tribune's  bride. 

The  chamber  was  not  large,  but  it  was  large  enough  to 
prove  that  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Kaselli  had  realized  her 
visions  of  vanity  and  splendor. 

It  was  an  apartment  that  mocked  description ;  it  seemed  a 
cabinet  for  the  gems  of  the  world.  The  daylight,  shaded  by 
high  and  deep-set  casements  of  stained  glass,  streamed  in  a 
purple  and  mellow  hue  over  all  that  the  art  of  that  day 
boasted  most  precious,  or  regal  luxury  held  most  dear.  The 
candelabras  of  the  silver  workmanship  of  Florence ;  the  car- 
pets and  stuffs  of  the  East;  the  draperies  of  Venice  and 


200  RIENZI : 

Genoa;  paintings  like  the  illuminated  missals,  wrought  in 
gold  and  those  lost  colors  of  blue  and  crimson ;  antique  mar- 
bles which  spoke  of  the  bright  days  of  Athens;  tables  of 
disinterred  mosaics,  their  freshness  preserved  as  by  magic; 
censers  of  gold  that  steamed  with  the  odors  of  Araby,  yet 
so  subdued  as  not  to  deaden  the  healthier  scent  of  flowers, 
which  blushed  in  every  corner  from  their  marble  and  alabaster 
vases ;  a  small  and  spirit-like  fountain,  which  seemed  to  gush 
from  among  wreaths  of  roses,  diffusing  in  its  diamond  and 
fairy  spray  a  scarce  felt  coolness  to  the  air,  —  all  these,  and 
such  as  these,  which  it  were  vain  work  to  detail,  congregated 
in  the  richest  luxuriance,  harmonized  with  the  most  exquisite 
taste,  uniting  the  ancient  arts  with  the  modern,  amazed  and 
intoxicated  the  sense  of  the  beholder.  It  was  not  so  much 
the  cost,  nor  the  luxury,  that  made  the  character  of  the  cham- 
ber, it  was  a  certain  gorgeous  and  almost  sublime  phantasy ; 
so  that  it  seemed  rather  the  fabled  retreat  of  an  enchantress, 
at  whose  word  genii  ransacked  the  earth  and  fairies  arranged 
the  produce,  than  the  grosser  splendor  of  an  earthly  queen. 
Behind  the  piled  cushions  upon  which  Nina  half  reclined, 
stood  four  girls,  beautiful  as  nymphs,  with  fans  of  the  rarest 
feathers ;  and  at  her  feet  lay  one  older  than  the  rest,  whose 
lute,  though  now  silent,  attested  her  legitimate  occupation. 

But  had  the  room  in  itself  seemed  somewhat  too  fantastic 
and  overcharged  in  its  prodigal  ornaments,  the  form  and  face 
of  Nina  would  at  once  have  rendered  all  appropriate,  so  com- 
pletely did  she  seem  the  natural  Spirit  of  the  Place,  so  won- 
derfully did  her  beauty,  elated  as  it  now  was  with  contented 
love,  gratified  vanity,  exultant  hope,  body  forth  the  brightest 
vision  that  ever  floated  before  the  eyes  of  Tasso  when  he 
wrought  into  one  immortal  shape  the  glory  of  the  Enchantress 
with  the  allurements  of  the  Woman. 

Nina  half  rose  as  she  saw  Ursula,  whose  sedate  and  mourn- 
ful features  involuntarily  testified  her  surprise  and  admiration 
at  a  loveliness  so  rare  and  striking,  but  who,  undazzled  by  the 
splendor  around,  soon  recovered  her  wonted  self-composure, 
and  seated  herself  on  the  cushion  to  which  Nina  pointed, 
while  the  young  visitor  remained  standing,  and  spell-bound 


THE  LAST  OF   THE  TRIBUNES.  201 

by  childish  wonder,  in  the  centre  of  the  apartment.  Nina 
recognized  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Ah  !  my  pretty  boy,  whose  quick  eye  and  bold  air  caught 
my  fancy  yesterday,  have  you  come  to  accept  my  offer  ?  Is  it 
you,  madam,  who  claim  this  fair  child  ? " 

"  Lady,"  replied  Ursula,  "  my  business  here  is  brief :  by  a 
train  of  events,  needless  to  weary  you  with  narrating,  this 
boy  from  his  infancy  fell  to  my  charge,  —  a  weighty  and 
anxious  trust  to  one  whose  thoughts  are  beyond  the  barrier  of 
life.  I  have  reared  him  as  became  a  youth  of  gentle  blood  ; 
for  on  both  sides,  lady,  he  is  noble,  though  an  orphan,  mother- 
less and  sireless." 

"  Poor  child  ! "  said  Nina,  compassionately. 

"  Growing  now,"  continued  Ursula,  "  oppressed  by  years,  and 
desirous  only  to  make  my  peace  with  heaven,  I  journeyed 
hither  some  months  since,  in  the  design  to  place  the  boy  with  a 
relation  of  mine ;  and,  that  trust  fulfilled,  to  take  the  vows  in 
the  City  of  the  Apostle.  Alas !  I  found  my  kinsman  dead,  and 
a  baron  of  wild  and  dissolute  character  was  his  heir.  Here 
remaining,  perplexed  and  anxious,  it  seemed  to  me  the  voice  of 
Providence  when,  yester-evening,  the  child  told  me  you  had  been 
pleased  to  honor  him  with  your  notice.  Like  the  rest  of  Rome, 
he  has  already  learned  enthusiasm  for  the  Tribune,  devotion  to 
the  Tribune's  bride.  Will  you,  in  truth,  admit  him  of  your 
household  ?  He  will  not  dishonor  your  protection  by  his  blood, 
nor,  I  trust,  by  his  bearing." 

"  I  would  take  his  face  for  his  guarantee,  madam,  even  with- 
out so  distinguished  a  recommendation  as  your  own.  Is  he 
Roman  ?  His  name  then  must  be  known  to  me." 

"  Pardon  me,  lady,"  replied  Ursula ;  "  he  bears  the  name  of 
Angelo  Villani,  —  not  that  of  his  sire  or  mother.  The  honor 
of  a  noble  house  forever  condemns  his  parentage  to  rest 
unknown.  He  is  the  offspring  of  a  love  unsanctioned  by  the 
Church." 

"  He  is  the  more  to  be  loved,  then,  and  to  be  pitied,  —  victim 
of  sin  not  his  own ! "  answered  Nina,  with  moistened  eyes,  as  she 
saw  the  deep  and  burning  blush  that  covered  the  boy's  cheeks. 
"  With  the  Tribune's  reign  commences  a  new  era  of  nobility, 


202  R1EXZI : 

when  rank  ami  knighthood  shall  be  won  by  a  man's  own  merit, 
not  that  of  his  ancestors.  Fear  not,  madam ;  in  my  house  he 
shall  know  no  slight." 

Ursula  was  moved  from  her  pride  by  the  kindness  of  Nina ; 
she  approached  with  involuntary  reverence,  and  kissed  the 
Signora's  hand. 

"  May  our  Lady  reward  your  noble  heart ! "  said  she.  "  And 
now  ray  mission  is  ended,  and  my  earthly  goal  is  won.  Add 
only,  lady,  to  your  inestimable  favors,  one  more.  These  jewels  " 
—  and  Ursula  drew  from  her  robe  a  casket,  touched  the  spring, 
and  the  lid  flying  back,  discovered  jewels  of  great  size  and  the 
most  brilliant  water  —  "these  jewels,"  she  continued,  laying 
the  casket  at  Nina's  feet,  "  once  belonging  to  the  princely  house 
of  Thoulouse,  are  valueless  to  me  and  mine.  Suffer  me  to  think 
that  they  are  transferred  to  one  whose  queenly  brow  will  give 
them  a  lustre  it  cannot  borrow." 

"  How !  "  said  Nina,  coloring  very  deeply ;  "  think  you, 
madam,  my  kindness  can  be  bought  ?  What  woman's  kindness 
ever  was  ?  Nay,  nay  ;  take  back  the  gifts,  or  I  shall  pray  you 
to  take  back  your  boy." 

Ursula  was  astonished  and  confounded;  to  her  experience 
such  abstinence  was  a  novelty,  and  she  scarcely  knew  how  to 
meet  it.  Nina  perceived  her  embarrassment  with  a  haughty 
and  triumphant  smile,  and  then,  regaining  her  former  courtesy 
of  demeanor,  said,  with  a  grave  sweetness,  — 

"  The  Tribune's  hands  are  clean :  the  Tribune's  wife  must 
not  be  suspected.  Rather,  madam,  should  I  press  upon  you  some 
token  of  exchange  for  the  fair  charge  you  have  committed  to 
me.  Your  jewels  hereafter  may  profit  the  boy  in  his  career  : 
reserve  them  for  one  who  needs  them." 

"No,  lady,"  said  Ursula,  rising,  and  lifting  her  eyes  to 
heaven ;  "  they  shall  buy  masses  for  his  mother's  soul :  for  him 
I  shall  reserve  a  competence  when  his  years  require  it.  Lady, 
accept  the  thanks  of  a  wretched  and  desolate  heart.  Fare  you 
well ! " 

She  turned  to  quit  the  room,  but  with  so  faltering  and  weak 
a  step  that  Nina,  touched  and  affected,  sprang  up,  and  with  her 
own  hand  guided  the  old  woman  across  the  room,  whispering 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  203 

comfort  and  soothing  to  her ;  while,  as  they  reached  the  door, 
the  boy  rushed  forward,  and,  clasping  Ursula's  robe,  sobbed 
out :  "  Dear  dame,  not  one  farewell  for  your  little  Angelo  ? 
Forgive  him  all  he  has  cost  you  !  Now,  for  the  first  time,  I  feel 
how  wayward  and  thankless  I  have  been." 

The  old  woman  caught  him  in  her  arms  and  kissed  him 
passionately ;  when  the  boy,  as  if  a  thought  suddenly  struck 
him,  drew  forth  the  purse  she  had  given  him,  and  said,  in  a 
choked  and  scarce  articulate  voice  :  "  And  let  this,  dearest  dame, 
go  in  masses  for  my  poor  father's  soul ;  for  he  is  dead  too,  you 
know ! " 

These  words  seemed  to  freeze  at  once  all  the  tenderer  emo- 
tions of  Ursula.  She  put  back  the  boy  with  the  same  chilling 
and  stern  severity  of  aspect  and  manner  which  had  so  often 
before  repressed  him;  and  recovering  her  self-possession,  at 
once  quitted  the  apartment  without  saying  another  word.  Nina, 
surprised,  but  still  pitying  her  sorrow  and  respecting  her  age, 
followed  her  steps  across  the  pages'  ante-room  and  the  recep- 
tion-chamber, even  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  —  a  condescension 
the  haughtiest  princess  of  Home  could  not  have  won  from  her  ; 
and  returning,  saddened  and  thoughtful,  she  took  the  boy's  hand 
and  affectionately  kissed  his  forehead. 

"  Poor  boy ! "  she  said,  "  it  seems  as  if  Providence  had  made 
me  select  thee  yesterday  from  the  crowd,  and  thus  conducted 
thee  to  thy  proper  refuge.  For  to  whom  should  come  the 
friendless  and  the  orphans  of  Eome,  but  to  the  palace  of  Rome's 
first  Magistrate  ?  "  Turning  then  to  her  attendants,  she  gave 
them  instructions  as  to  the  personal  comforts  of  her  new 
charge,  which  evinced  that  if  power  had  ministered  to  her 
vanity,  it  had  not  steeled  her  heart.  Angelo  Villani  lived  to 
repay  her  well ! 

She  retained  the  boy  in  her  presence ;  and  conversing  with 
him  familiarly,  she  was  more  and  more  pleased  with  his  bold 
spirit  and  frank  manner.  Their  conversation  was  however 
interrupted,  as  the  day  advanced,  by  the  arrival  of  several 
ladies  of  the  Roman  nobility.  And  then  it  was  that  Nina's 
virtues  receded  into  shade  and  her  faults  appeared.  She  could 
not  resist  the  woman's  triumph  over  those  arrogant  signoras 


204  RIENZI  : 

who  now  cringed  in  homage  where  they  had  once  slighted  with 
disdain.  She  affected  the  manner  of,  she  demanded  the  respect 
due  to,  a  queen,  and  by  many  of  those  dexterous  arts  which 
the  sex  know  so  well,  she  contrived  to  render  her  very  courtesy 
a  humiliation  to  her  haughty  guests.  Her  commanding  beauty 
and  her  graceful  intellect  saved  her,  indeed,  from  the  vulgar 
insolence  of  the  upstart,  but  yet  more  keenly  stung  the  pride, 
by  forbidding  to  those  she  mortified  the  retaliation  of  con- 
tempt. Hers  were  the  covert  taunt,  the  smiling  affront,  the 
sarcasm  in  the  mask  of  compliment,  the  careless  exaction  of 
respect  in  trifles,  which  could  not  outwardly  be  resented,  but 
which  could  not  inly  be  forgiven. 

"  Fair  day  to  the  Signora  Colouna !  "  said  she  to  the  proud 
wife  of  the  proud  Stephen.  "  We  passed  your  palace  yesterday. 
How  fair  it  now  seems,  relieved  from  those  gloomy  battlements 
which  it  must  often  have  saddened  you  to  gaze  upon.  Signora," 
turning  to  one  of  the  Orsini,  "your  lord  has  high  favor  witli 
the  Tribune,  who  destines  him  to  great  command.  His  for- 
tunes are  secured,  and  we  rejoice  at  it ;  for  no  man  more  loyally 
serves  the  state.  Have  you  seen,  fair  Lady  of  Frangipani,  the 
last  verses  of  Petrarch  in  honor  of  my  lord  ?  They  rest  yonder. 
May  we  so  far  venture  as  to  request  you  to  point  out  their 
beauties  to  the  Signora  di  Savelli  ?  We  rejoice,  noble  Lady 
of  Malatesta,  to  observe  that  your  eyesight  is  so  well  restored. 
The  last  time  we  met,  though  we  stood  next  to  you  in  the  revels 
of  the  Lady  Giulia,  you  seemed  scarce  to  distinguish  us  from 
the  pillar  by  which  we  stood !  " 

"  Must  this  insolence  be  endured  ?  "  whispered  the  Signora 
Frangipani  to  the  Signora  Malatesta. 

"  Hush,  hush !  —  if  ever  it  be  our  day  again ! " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  205 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE     BLESSING     OF     A     COUNCILLOR     WHOSE      INTERESTS      AND 

HEART     ARE     OUR    OWN.  THE    STRAWS    THROWN    UPWARD 

DO    THEY    PORTEND    A    STORM  ? 

IT  was  later  that  day  than  usual  when  Rienzi  returned  from 
his  tribunal  to  the  apartments  of  the  palace.  As  he  traversed 
the  reception-hall  his  countenance  was  much  flushed ;  his  teeth 
were  set  firmly,  like  a  man  who  has  taken  a  strong  resolution 
from  which  he  will  not  be  moved ;  and  his  brow  was  dark  with 
that  settled  and  fearful  frown  which  the  describers  of  his  per- 
sonal appearance  have  not  failed  to  notice  as  the  characteristic 
of  an  anger  the  more  deadly  because  invariably  just.  Close 
at  his  heels  followed  the  Bishop  of  Orvietto  and  the  aged 
Stephen  Colonna.  "  I  tell  you,  my  lords,"  said  Rienzi,  "  that 
ye  plead  in  vain.  Eome  knows  no  distinction  between  ranks. 
The  law  is  blind  to  the  agent  —  lynx-eyed  to  the  deed." 

"  Yet,"  said  Kaimond,  hesitatingly,  "  bethink  thee,  Tribune  : 
the  nephew  of  two  cardinals,  and  himself  once  a  senator." 

Rienzi  halted  abruptly,  and  faced  his  companions.  "My 
Lord  Bishop,"  said  he,  "does  not  this  make  the  crime  more 
inexcusable  ?  Look  you,  thus  it  reads :  A  vessel  from  Avignon 
to  Naples,  charged  with  the  revenues  of  Provence  to  Queen 
Johanna,  on  whose  cause,  mark  you,  we  now  hold  solemn  coun- 
cil, is  wrecked  at  the  mouth  of  the  Tiber ;  with  that,  Martino 
di  Porto  —  a  noble,  as  you  say  —  the  holder  of  that  fortress 
whence  he  derives  his  title,  doubly  bound,  by  gentle  blood  and 
by  immediate  neighborhood,  to  succor  the  oppressed,  falls  upon 
the  vessel  with  his  troops  —  what  hath  the  rebel  with  armed 
troops  ?  —  and  pillages  the  vessel  like  a  common  robber.  He 
is  apprehended,  brought  to  my  tribunal,  receives  fair  trial,  is 
condemned  to  die.  Such  is  the  law:  what  more  would  ye 
have  ?  " 

«  Mercy,"  said  the  Colonna. 


206  RIENZI : 

Rienzi  folded  his  arms  and  laughed  disdainfully.  "  I  never 
heard  my  Lord  Colonna  plead  for  mercy  when  a  peasant  had 
stolen  the  bread  that  was  to  feed  his  famishing  children." 

"  Between  a  peasant  and  a  prince,  Tribune,  /,  for  one,  recog- 
nize a  distinction ;  the  bright  blood  of  an  Orsini  is  not  to  be 
shed  like  that  of  a  base  plebeian  —  " 

"  Which,  I  remember  me,"  said  Rienzi,  in  a  low  voice,  "  you 
deemed  small  matter  enough  when  my  boy-brother  fell  beneath 
the  wanton  spear  of  your  proud  son.  Wake  not  that  memory, 
I  warn  you ;  let  it  sleep.  For  shame,  old  Colonna ;  for  shame  ! 
so  near  the  grave,  where  the  worm  levels  all  flesh,  and  preach- 
ing, with  those  gray  hairs,  the  uncharitable  distinction  between 
man  and  man.  Is  there  not  distinction  enough  at  the  best  ? 
Does  not  one  wear  purple,  and  the  other  rags  ?  Hath  not  one 
ease,  and  the  other  toil  ?  Doth  not  the  one  banquet  while  the 
other  starves  ?  Do  I  nourish  any  mad  scheme  to  level  the 
ranks  which  society  renders  a  necessary  evil  ?  No.  I  war  no 
more  with  Dives  than  with  Lazarus.  But  before  man's  judg- 
ment-seat, as  before  God's,  Lazarus  and  Dives  are  made  equal. 
No  more." 

Colonna  drew  his  robe  round  him  with  great  haughtiness, 
and  bit  his  lip  in  silence.  Eaimond  interposed. 

"  All  this  is  true,  Tribune.  But,"  and  he  drew  Rienzi  aside, 
"you  know  we  must  be  politic  as  well  as  just.  Nephew  to  two 
cardinals,  what  enmity  will  not  this  provoke  at  Avignon ! " 

"  Vex  not  yourself,  holy  Raimond !  I  will  answer  it  to  the 
Pontiff."  While  they  spoke,  the  bell  tolled  heavily  and 
loudly. 

Colonna  started. 

"Great  Tribune,"  said  he,  with  a  slight  sneer,  •' deign  to 
pause  ere  it  be  too  late.  I  know  not  that  I  ever  before  bent 
to  you  a  suppliant,  and  I  ask  you  now  to  spare  mine  own  foe. 
Stephen  Colonna  prays  Cola  di  Rienzi  to  spare  the  life  of  an 
Orsini." 

"  I  understand  thy  taunt,  old  lord,"  said  Rienzi,  calmly,  "  but 
I  resent  it  not.  You  are  foe  to  the  Orsini,  yet  you  plead  for 
him,  —  it  sounds  generous ;  but  hark  you,  you  are  more  a  friend 
to  your  order  than  a  foe  to  your  rival.  You  cannot  bear  that 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  207 

one,  great  enough  to  have  contended  with  you,  should  perish 
like  a  thief.  I  give  full  praise  to  such  noble  forgiveness ;  but 
I  am  no  noble,  and  I  do  not  sympathize  with  it.  One  word 
more :  if  this  were  the  sole  act  of  fraud  and  violence  that  this 
bandit  baron  had  committed,  your  prayers  should  plead  for 
him ;  but  is  not  his  life  notorious  ?  Has  he  not  been  from 
boyhood  the  terror  and  disgrace  of  Rome  ?  How  many  matrons 
violated,  merchants  pillaged,  peaceful  men  stilettoed  in  the  day- 
light, rise  in  dark  witness  against  the  prisoner  ?  And  for  such 
a  man  do  I  live  to  hear  an  aged  prince  and  a  pope's  vicar  plead 
for  mercy  ?  Fie,  fie !  But  I  will  be  even  with  ye.  The  next 
poor  man  whom  the  law  sentences  to  death,  for  your  sake  will 
I  pardon." 

Raimond  again  drew  aside  the  Tribune,  while  Colonna 
struggled  to  suppress  his  rage. 

"  My  friend,"  said  the  Bishop,  "  the  nobles  will  feel  this  as 
an  insult  to  their  whole  order ;  the  very  pleading  of  Orsini's 
worst  foe  must  convince  thee  of  this.  Martino's  blood  will 
seal  their  reconciliation  with  each  other,  and  they  will  be  as 
one  man  against  thee." 

"  Be  it  so ;  with  God  and  the  People  on  my  side,  I  will  dare, 
though  a  Roman,  to  be  just.  The  bell  ceases, — you  are  al- 
ready too  late."  So  saying,  Rienzi  threw  open  the  casement ; 
and  by  the  Staircase  of  the  Lion  rose  a  gibbet,  from  which 
swung  with  a  creaking  sound,  arrayed  in  his  patrician  robes, 
the  yet  palpitating  corpse  of  Martino  di  Porto. 

"  Behold ! "  said  the  Tribune,  sternly ;  "  thus  die  all  robbers. 
For  traitors,  the  same  law  has  the  axe  and  the  scaffold ! " 

Raimond  drew  back  and  turned  pale.  Not  so  the  veteran 
noble.  Tears  of  wounded  pride  started  from  his  eyes ;  he 
approached,  leaning  on  his  staff,  to  Rienzi,  touched  him  on 
his  shoulder,  and  said, — 

"  Tribune,  a  judge  has  lived  to  envy  his  victim ! " 

Rienzi  turned  with  an  equal  pride  to  the  Baron 

"We  forgive  idle  words  in  the  aged.  My  lord,  have  you 
done  with  us  ?  We  would  be  alone." 

"Give  me  thy  arm,  Raimond,"  said  Stephen.  "Tribune, 
farewell !  Forget  that  the  Colonna  sued  thee,  —  an  easy  task, 


208  RIENZI : 

methinks ;  for,  wise  as  you  are,  you  forget  what  every  one  else 
can  remember." 

"Ay,  my  lord,  what?" 

"  Birth,  Tribune,  birth ;  that 's  all ! " 

"  The  Signer  Colonna  has  taken  up  my  old  calling,  and  turned 
a  wit,"  returned  Rienzi,  with  an  indifferent  and  easy  tone. 

Then,  following  Raimond  and  Stephen  with  his  eyes  till  the 
door  closed  upon  them,  he  muttered,  "  Insolent !  were  it  not  for 
Adrian,  thy  gray  beard  should  not  bear  thee  harmless.  Birth  ! 
what  Colonna  would  not  boast  himself,  if  he  could,  the  grand- 
son of  an  emperor  ?  Old  man,  there  is  danger  in  thee  which 
must  be  watched."  With  that  he  turned  musingly  towards  the 
casement,  and  again  that  grisly  spectacle  of  death  met  his  eye. 
The  people  below,  assembled  in  large  concourse,  rejoiced  at  the 
execution  of  one  whose  whole  life  had  been  infamy  and  rapine, 
but  who  had  seemed  beyond  justice,  with  all  the  fierce  clamor 
that  marks  the  exultation  of  the  rabble  over  a  crushed  foe. 
And  where  Rienzi  stood,  he  heard  their  shouts  of  "  Long  live 
the  Tribune,  the  just  judge,  Rome's  liberator ! "  But  at  that 
time  other  thoughts  deafened  his  senses  to  the  popular 
enthusiasm. 

"  My  poor  brother ! "  he  said  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  it  was 
owing  to  this  man's  crimes,  and  to  a  crime  almost  similar  to 
that  for  which  he  has  now  suffered,  that  thou  wert  entrained  to 
the  slaughter ;  and  they  who  had  no  pity  for  the  lamb,  clamor 
for  compassion  to  the  wolf !  Ah !  wert  thou  living  now,  how 
these  proud  heads  would  bend  to  thee ;  though  dead,  thou  wert 
not  worthy  of  a  thought.  God  rest  thy  gentle  soul,  and  keep 
my  ambition  pure  as  it  was  when  we  walked  at  twilight,  side 
by  side  together ! " 

The  Tribune  shut  the  casement,  and  turning  away,  sought 
the  chamber  of  Nina.  On  hearing  his  step  without,  she  had 
already  risen  from  the  couch,  her  eyes  sparkling,  her  bosom 
heaving ;  and  as  he  entered,  she  threw  herself  on  his  neck,  and 
murmured  as  she  nestled  to  his  breast,  —  "  Ah,  the  hours  since 
we  parted ! " 

It  was  a  singular  thing  to  see  that  proud  lady,  proud  of  her 
beauty,  her  station,  her  new  honors,  —  whose  gorgeous  vanity 


THE   LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  209 

was  already  the  talk  of  Rome  and  the  reproach  to  Rienzi,  — 
how  suddenly  and  miraculously  she  seemed  changed  in  his 
presence !  Blushing  and  timid,  all  pride  in  herself  seemed 
merged  in  her  proud  love  for  him.  No  woman  ever  loved  to 
the  full  extent  of  the  passion  who  did  not  venerate  where  she 
loved,  and  who  did  not  feel  humbled  —  delighted  in  that  hu- 
mility —  by  her  exaggerated  and  overweening  estimate  of  the 
superiority  of  the  object  of  her  worship. 

And  it  might  be  the  consciousness  of  this  distinction  be- 
tween himself  and  all  other  created  things  which  continued  to 
increase  the  love  of  the  Tribune  to  his  bride,  to  blind  him  to 
her  failings  towards  others,  and  to  indulge  her  in  a  magnifi- 
cence of  parade  which,  though  to  a  certain  point  politic  to 
assume,  was  carried  to  an  extent  which,  if  it  did  not  conspire 
to  produce  his  downfall,  has  served  the  Romans  with  an  ex- 
cuse for  their  own  cowardice  and  desertion,  and  historians  with 
a  plausible  explanation  of  causes  they  had  not  the  industry  to 
fathom.  Rienzi  returned  his  wife's  caresses  with  an  equal 
affection ;  and  bending  down  to  her  beautiful  face,  the  sight 
was  sufficient  to  chase  from  his  brow  the  emotions,  whether 
severe  or  sad,  which  had  lately  darkened  its  broad  expanse. 
"  Thou  hast  not  been  abroad  this  morning,  Nina !  " 
"No,  the  heat  was  oppressive.  But  nevertheless,  Cola,  I 
have  not  lacked  company,  —  half  the  matronage  of  Rome  has 
crowded  the  palace." 

"  Ah  !  I  warrant  it.     But  yon  boy,  is  he  not  a  new  face  ?  n 
"  Hush,  Cola !  speak  to  him  kindly,  I  entreat ;  of  his  story 
anon.     Angelo,   approach!     You  see   your  new   master,   the 
Tribune  of  Rome." 

Angelo  approached  with  a  timidity  not  his  wont ;  for  an  air 
of  majesty  was  at  all  times  natural  to  Rienzi,  and  since  his 
power  it  had  naturally  taken  a  graver  and  austerer  aspect, 
which  impressed  those  who  approached  him,  even  the  ambassa- 
dors of  princes,  with  a  certain  involuntary  awe.  The  Tribune 
smiled  at  the  effect  he  saw  he  had  produced,  and  being  by 
temper  fond  of  children,  and  affable  to  all  but  the  great,  he 
hastened  to  dispel  it.  He  took  the  child  affectionately  in  his 
arms,  kissed  him,  and  bade  him  welcome. 

VOL.    I.  —  14 


210  RIENZI : 

"  May  we  have  a  son  as  fair  1 "  he  whispered  to  Nina,  who 
blushed,  and  turned  away. 

"Thy  name,  my  little  friend?" 

«  Angelo  Villani." 

"A  Tuscan  name.  There  is  a  man  of  letters  at  Florence, 
doubtless  writing  our  annals  from  hearsay  at  this  moment, 
called  Villani,  —  perhaps  akin  to  thee  ?  " 

"I  have  no  kin,"  said  the  boy,  bluntly;  "and  therefore  I 
shall  the  better  love  the  Signora  and  honor  you,  if  you  will  let 
me.  I  am  Roman :  all  the  Roman  boys  honor  Rienzi." 

"  Do  they,  my  brave  lad  ?  "  said  the  Tribune,  coloring  with 
pleasure.  "  That  is  a  good  omen  of  my  continued  prosperity." 
He  put  down  the  boy,  and  threw  himself  on  the  cushions? 
while  Nina  placed  herself  on  a  kind  of  low  stool  beside  him. 

"  Let  us  be  alone,"  said  he ;  and  Nina  motioned  to  the 
attendant  maidens  to  withdraw. 

"Take  my  new  page  with  you,"  said  she  ;  "he  is  yet,  perhaps, 
too  fresh  from  home  to  enjoy  the  company  of  his  giddy 
brethren." 

When  they  were  alone,  Nina  proceeded  to  narrate  to  Rienzi 
the  adventure  of  the  morning;  but  though  he  seemed  out- 
wardly to  listen,  his  gaze  was  on  vacancy,  and  he  was  evidently 
abstracted  and  self-absorbed.  At  length,  as  she  concluded,  he 
said,  "  Well,  Nina,  you  have  acted  as  ever,  kindly  and  nobly. 
Let  us  to  other  themes.  I  am  in  danger." 

"  Danger  I "  echoed  Nina,  turning  pale. 

"Why,  the  word  must  not  appal  you  !  you  have  a  spirit  like 
mine,  that  scorns  fear,  —  and,  for  that  reason,  Nina,  in  all 
Rome  you  are  my  only  confidant.  It  was  not  only  to  glad  me 
with  thy  beauty,  but  to  cheer  me  with  thy  counsel,  to  support 
me  with  thy  valor,  that  Heaven  gave  me  thee  as  a  helpmate." 

"  Now,  our  Lady  bless  thee  for  those  words  ! "  said  Nina, 
kissing  the  hand  that  hung  over  her  shoulder;  "  and  if  I  started 
at  the  word  '  danger,'  it  was  but  the  woman's  thought  of  thee, 
—  an  unworthy  thought,  my  Cola,  for  glory  and  danger  go 
together.  And  I  am  as  ready  to  share  the  last  as  the  first.  If 
the  hour  of  trial  ever  come,  none  of  thy  friends  shall  be  so 
faithful  to  thy  side  as  this  weak  form  but  undaunted  heart." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  211 

"  I  know  it,  my  own  Nina ;  I  know  it,"  said  Eienzi,  rising, 
and  pacing  the  chamber  with  large  and  rapid  strides.  "Now 
listen  to  me.  Thou  knowest  that,  to  govern  in  safety,  it  is  my 
policy  as  my  pride  to  govern  justly.  To  govern  justly  is  an 
awful  thing  when  mighty  Barons  are  the  culprits.  Nina,  for 
an  open  and  audacious  robbery  our  court  has  sentenced  Martin 
of  the  Orsini,  the  Lord  of  Porto,  to  death.  His  corse  swings 
now  on  the  Staircase  of  the  Lion." 

"  A  dreadful  doom  ! "  said  Nina,  shuddering. 

"  True  ;  but  by  his  death  thousands  of  poor  and  honest  men 
may  live  in  peace.  It  is  not  that  which  troubles  me;  the 
Barons  resent  the  deed,  as  an  insult  to  them  that  law  should 
touch  a  noble.  They  will  rise,  they  will  rebel.  I  foresee  the 
storm,  not  the  spell  to  allay  it." 

Nina  paused  a  moment.  "  They  have  taken,"  she  then  said, 
"a  solemn  oath  on  the  Eucharist  not  to  bear  arms  against 
thee." 

"  Perjury  is  a  light  addition  to  theft  and  murder,"  answered 
Eienzi,  with  his  sarcastic  smile. 

"  But  the  people  are  faithful." 

"  Yes,  but  in  a  civil  war  (which  the  saints  forefend ! )  those 
combatants  are  the  stanchest  who  have  no  home  but  their 
armor,  no  calling  but  the  sword.  The  trader  will  not  leave  his 
trade  at  the  toll  of  a  bell  every  day ;  but  the  Barons'  soldiery 
are  ready  at  all  hours." 

"  To  be  strong,"  said  Nina,  —  who,  summoned  to  the  councils 
of  her  lord,  shoAved  an  intellect  not  unworthy  of  the  honor, 
— "  to  be  strong  in  dangerous  times,  authority  must  seem 
strong.  By  showing  no  fear,  you  may  prevent  the  cause  of 
fear." 

"  My  own  thought ! "  returned  Eienzi,  quickly.  "  You  know 
that  half  my  power  with  these  Barons  is  drawn  from  the  hom- 
age rendered  to  me  by  foreign  States.  When  from  every  city 
in  Italy  the  ambassadors  of  crowned  princes  seek  the  alliance 
of  the  Tribune,  they  must  veil  their  resentment  at  the  rise  of 
the  Plebeian.  On  the  other  hand,  to  be  strong  abroad  I  must 
seem  strong  at  home :  the  vast  design  I  have  planned,  and,  as 
by  a  miracle,  begun  to  execute,  will  fail  at  once  if  it  seem 


212  RIENZI: 

abroad  to  be  intrusted  to  an  unsteady  and  fluctuating  power. 
That  design,"  continued  Rienzi,  pausing,  and  placing  Ms  hand 
on  a  marble  bust  of  the  young  Augustus,  "  is  greater  than  his 
whose  profound  yet  icy  soul  united  Italy  in  subjection ;  for  it 
would  unite  Italy  in  freedom.  Yes!  could  we  but  form  one 
great  federative  league  of  all  the  States  of  Italy,  each  gov- 
erned by  its  own  laws,  but  united  for  mutual  and  common 
protection  against  the  Attilas  of  the  North,  with  Kome  for 
their  Metropolis  and  their  Mother,  this  age  and  this  brain 
would  have  wrought  an  enterprise  which  men  should  quote  till 
the  sound  of  the  last  trump !  " 

"  I  know  thy  divine  scheme,"  said  Nina,  catching  his  enthu- 
siasm ;  "  and  what  if  there  be  danger  in  attaining  it  ?  Have 
we  not  mastered  the  greatest  danger  in  the  first  step  ?  " 

"  Eight,  Nina,  right !  Heaven,"  and  the  Tribune,  who  ever 
recognized,  in  his  own  fortunes,  the  agency  of  the  Hand 
above,  crossed  himself  reverently,  "  will  preserve  him  to  whom 
it  hath  vouchsafed  such  lofty  visions  of  the  future  redemption 
of  the  Land  of  the  true  Church  and  the  liberty  and  advance- 
ment of  its  children !  This  I  trust :  already  many  of  the  cities 
of  Tuscany  have  entered  into  treaties  for  the  formation  of  this 
league ;  nor  from  a  single  tyrant,  save  John  di  Vico,  have  I 
received  aught  but  fair  words  and  flattering  promises.  The 
time  seems  ripe  for  the  grand  stroke  of  all." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?  "  demanded  Nina,  wonderingly. 

"  Defiance  to  all  foreign  interference.  By  what  right  does  a 
synod  of  stranger  princes  give  Home  a  king  in  some  Teuton 
Emperor  ?  Home's  people  alone  should  choose  Rome's  gov- 
ernor. And  shall  we  cross  the  Alps  to  render  the  title  of  our 
master  to  the  descendants  of  the  Goth  ?  " 

Nina  was  silent ;  the  custom  of  choosing  the  sovereign  by  a 
diet  beyond  the  Rhine,  reserving  only  the  ceremony  of  his 
subsequent  coronation  for  the  mock  assent  of  the  Romans, 
however  degrading  to  that  people,  and  however  hostile  to  all 
notions  of  substantial  independence,  was  so  unquestioned  at 
that  time  that  Rienzi's  daring  suggestion  left  her  amazed  and 
breathless,  prepared  as  she  was  for  any  scheme,  however 
extravagantly  bold. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  213 

"  How  ! "  said  she,  after  a  long  pause ;  "  do  I  understand 
aright  ?  Can  you  mean  defiance  to  the  Emperor  ?  " 

"  Why,  listen :  at  this  moment  there  are  two  pretenders  to 
the  throne  of  Rome,  —  to  the  Imperial  crown  of  Italy,  —  a 
Bohemian  and  a  Bavarian.  To  their  election  our  assent  — 
Rome's  assent  —  is  not  requisite,  not  asked.  Can  we  be  called 
free,  can  we  boast  ourselves  republican,  when  a  stranger  and  a 
barbarian  is  thus  thrust  upon  our  necks  ?  No,  we  will  be  free 
in  reality  as  in  name.  Besides,"  continued  the  Tribune,  in  a 
calmer  tone,  "  this  seems  to  me  politic  as  well  as  daring.  The 
people  incessantly  demand  wonders  from  me  :  how  can  I  more 
nobly  dazzle,  more  virtuously  win  them,  than  by  asserting  their 
inalienable  right  to  choose  their  own  rulers  ?  The  daring  will 
awe  the  Barons,  and  foreigners  themselves  ;  it  will  give  a  start- 
ling example  to  all  Italy ;  it  will  be  the  first  brand  of  a  univer- 
sal blaze.  It  shall  be  done,  and  with  a  pomp  that  befits  the 
deed ! " 

"Cola,"  said  Nina,  hesitatingly,  "your  eagle  spirit  often 
ascends  where  mine  flags  to  follow ;  yet  be  not  over  bold." 

"Nay,  did  you  not,  a  moment  since,  preach  a  different 
doctrine  ?  To  be  strong,  was  I  not  to  seem  strong  ?  " 

"May  fate  preserve  you!"  said  Nina,  with  a  foreboding 
sigh. 

"  Fate !  "  cried  Rienzi ;  "  there  is  no  fate  !  Between  the 
thought  and  the  success,  God  is  the  only  agent;  and,"  he 
added  with  a  voice  of  deep  solemnity,  "I  shall  not  be  de- 
serted. Visions  by  night,  even  while  thine  arms  are  around 
me  ;  omens  and  impulses,  stirring  and  divine,  by  day,  even  in 
the  midst  of  the  living  crowd,  —  encourage  my  path  and  point 
my  goal.  Now,  even  now,  a  voice  seems  to  whisper  in  my 
ear :  <  Pause  not,  tremble  not,  waver  not ;  for  the  eye  of 
the  All-Seeing  is  upon  thee,  and  the  hand  of  the  Ail-Power- 
ful shall  protect ! '  " 

As  Rienzi  thus  spoke,  his  face  grew  pale,  his  hair  seemed  to 
bristle,  his  tall  and  proud  form  trembled  visibly,  and  presently 
he  sank  down  on  a  seat  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 

An  awe  crept  over  Nina,  though  not  unaccustomed  to  such 
strange  and  preternatural  emotions,  which  appeared  yet  the 


214  KIENZI  : 

more  singular  in  one  who  in  common  life  was  so  calm,  stately, 
and  self-possessed.  But  with  every  increase  of  prosperity  and 
power  those  emotions  seemed  to  increase  in  their  fervor,  as  if 
in  such  increase  the  devout  and  overwrought  superstition  of 
the  Tribune  recognized  additional  proof  of  a  mysterious 
guardianship  mightier  than  the  valor  and  art  of  man. 

She  approached  fearfully  and  threw  her  arms  around  him, 
but  without  speaking. 

Ere  yet  the  Tribune  had  well  recovered  himself,  a  slight  tap 
at  the  door  was  heard,  and  the  sound  seemed  at  once  to  recall 
his  self-possession. 

"  Enter,"  he  said,  lifting  his  face,  to  which  the  wonted  color 
slowly  returned. 

An  officer,  half-opening  the  door,  announced  that  the  person 
he  had  sent  for  waited  his  leisure. 

"  I  come  !  —  Core  of  my  heart,"  he  whispered  to  Nina,  "  we 
will  sup  alone  to-night,  and  will  converse  more  on  these 
matters ; "  so  saying,  with  somewhat  less  than  his  usual  lofti- 
ness of  mien  he  left  the  room,  and  sought  his  cabinet,  which 
lay  at  the  other  side  of  the  reception-chamber.  Here  he 
found  Cecco  del  Vecchio. 

"  How,  my  bold  fellow ! "  said  the  Tribune,  assuming  with 
wonderful  ease  that  air  of  friendly  equality  which  he  always 
adopted  with  those  of  the  lower  class,  and  which  made  a  strik- 
ing contrast  with  the  majesty,  no  less  natural,  which  marked 
his  manner  to  the  great.  "  How  now,  my  Cecco !  Thou 
bearest  thyself  bravely,  I  see,  during  these  sickly  heats ;  we 
laborers — for  both  of  us  labor,  Cecco  —  are  too  busy  to  fall 
ill,  as  the  idle  do,  in  the  summer,  or  the  autumn,  of  Roman 
skies.  I  sent  for  thee,  Cecco,  because  I  would  know  how  thy 
fellow-craftsmen  are  like  to  take  the  Orsini's  execution." 

"  Oh,  Tribune  ! "  replied  the  artificer,  who,  now  familiarized 
with  Rienzi,  had  lost  much  of  his  earlier  awe  of  him,  and  who 
regarded  the  Tribune's  power  as  partly  his  own  creation,  "  they 
are  already  out  of  their  honest  wits  at  your  courage  in  punish- 
ing the  great  men  as  you  would  the  small." 

"  So ;  I  am  repaid !  But  hark  you,  Cecco,  it  will  bring 
perhaps  hot  work  upon  us.  Every  Baron  will  dread  lest  it  be 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  215 

his  turn  next,  and  dread  will  make  them  bold,  like  rats  in 
despair.  We  may  have  to  fight  for  the  Good  Estate." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Tribune,"  answered  Cecco,  gruffly.  "  I, 
for  one,  am  no  craven." 

"  Then  keep  the  same  spirit  in  all  your  meetings  with  the 
artificers.  I  fight  for  the  people.  The  people  at  a  pinch 
must  fight  with  me." 

"  They  will,"  replied  Cecco  ;  « they  will ! " 

"  Cecco,  this  city  is  under  the  spiritual  dominion  of  the 
Pontiff,  —  so  be  it ;  it  is  an  honor,  not  a  burden.  But  the 
temporal  dominion,  my  friend,  should  be  with  Romans  only. 
Is  it  not  a  disgrace  to  Republican  Rome  that  while  we  now 
speak,  certain  barbarians,  whom  we  never  heard  of,  should  be 
deciding,  beyond  the  Alps,  on  the  merits  of  two  sovereigns 
whom  we  never  saw  ?  Is  not  this  a  thing  to  be  resisted  ? 
An  Italian  city,  —  what  hath  it  to  do  with  a  Bohemian 
Emperor  ?  " 

"  Little  eno',  Saint  Paul  knows  !  "  said  Cecco. 

"  Should  it  not  be  a  claim  questioned  ?  " 

"  I  think  so  !  "  replied  the  smith. 

"  And  if  found  an  outrage  on  our  ancient  laws,  should  it  not 
be  a  claim  resisted  ?  " 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it." 

"  Well,  go  to !  The  archives  assure  me  that  never  was 
Emperor  lawfully  crowned  but  by  the  free  votes  of  the  people. 
We  never  chose  Bohemian  or  Bavarian." 

"  But,  on  the  contrary,  whenever  these  Northmen  come  hither 
to  be  crowned,  we  try  to  drive  them  away  with  stones  and 
curses ;  for  we  are  a  people,  Tribune,  that  love  our  liberties." 

"Go  back  to  your  friends;  see,  address  them,  —  say  that 
your  Tribune  will  demand  of  these  pretenders  to  Rome  the 
right  to  her  throne.  Let  them  not  be  mazed  or  startled,  but 
support  me  when  the  occasion  comes." 

"  I  am  glad  of  this,"  quoth  the  huge  smith ;  "  for  our  friends 
have  grown  a  little  unruly  of  late,  and  say  —  " 

"What  do  they  say?" 

"  That  it  is  true  you  have  expelled  the  banditti,  and  curb  the 
Barons,  and  administer  justice  fairly  —  " 


216  RIENZI : 

"Is  not  that  miracle  enough  for  the  space  of  some  two  or 
three  short  months  ?  " 

"  Why,  they  say  it  would  have  been  more  than  enough  in  a 
noble ;  but  you,  being  raised  from  the  people,  and  having  such 
gifts  and  so  forth,  might  do  yet  more.  It  is  now  three  weeks 
since  they  have  had  any  new  thing  to  talk  about ;  but  Orsini's 
execution  to-day  will  cheer  them  a  bit." 

"  Well,  Cecco,  well,"  said  the  Tribune,  rising ;  "  they  shall 
have  more  anon  to  feed  their  mouths  with.  So  you  think 
they  love  me  not  quite  so  well  as  they  did  some  three  weeks 
back?" 

"  I  say  not  so,"  answered  Cecco.  "  But  we  Komans  are  an 
impatient  people." 

"  Alas,  yes  !  " 

"  However,  they  will  no  doubt  stick  close  enough  to  you, 
provided,  Tribune,  you  don't  put  any  new  tax  upon  them." 

"  Ha !  But  if,  in  order  to  be  free,  it  be  necessary  to  fight ; 
if,  to  fight,  it  be  necessary  to  have  soldiers,  —  why  then  the 
soldiers  must  be  paid.  Won't  the  people  contribute  something 
to  their  own  liberties,  —  to  just  laws  and  safe  lives  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  returned  the  smith,  scratching  his  head  as 
if  a  little  puzzled ;  "  but  I  know  that  poor  men  won't  be  over- 
taxed. They  say  they  are  better  off  with  you  than  with  the 
Barons  before,  and  therefore  they  love  you.  But  men  in  busi- 
ness, Tribune,  poor  men  with  families,  must  look  to  their 
bellies.  Only  one  man  in  ten  goes  to  law,  only  one  man  in 
twenty  is  butchered  by  a  Baron's  brigand ;  but  every  man  eats, 
and  drinks,  and  feels  a  tax." 

"  This  cannot  be  your  reasoning,  Cecco ! "  said  Rienzi, 
gravely. 

"Why,  Tribune,  I  am  an  honest  man,  but  I  have  a  large 
family  to  rear." 

"  Enough,  enough ! "  said  the  Tribune,  quickly ;  and  then 
he  added  abstractedly,  as  to  himself,  but  aloud :  "  Methinks 
we  have  been  too  lavish;  these  shows  and  spectacles  should 
cease." 

"  What !  "  cried  Cecco,  "  what,  Tribune  !  —  would  you  deny 
the  poor  fellows  a  holiday?  They  work  hard  enough,  and 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  217 

their  only  pleasure  is  seeing  your  fine  shows  and  processions ; 
and  then  they  go  home  and  say  :  '  See,  our  man  beats  all  the 
Barons  !  what  state  he  keeps ! ' ' 

"  Ah  !  they  blame  not  my  splendor,  then ! " 

"  Blame  it  ?  no !  Without  it  they  would  be  ashamed  of 
you,  and  think  the  Buono  Stato  but  a  shabby  concern." 

"  You  speak  bluntly,  Cecco,  but  perhaps  wisely.  The  saints 
keep  you !  Fail  not  to  remember  what  I  told  you  ! " 

"  No,  no.  It  is  a  shame  to  have  an  Emperor  thrust  upon 
us  ;  so  it  is.  Good  evening,  Tribune." 

Left  alone,  the  Tribune  remained  for  some  time  plunged  in 
gloomy  and  foreboding  thoughts. 

"  I  am  in  the  midst  of  a  magician's  spell,"  said  he ;  "  if  I 
desist,  the  fiends  tear  me  to  pieces.  What  I  have  begun,  that 
must  I  conclude.  But  this  rude  man  shows  me  too  well  with 
what  tools  I  work.  For  me,  failure  is  nothing.  I  have  already 
climbed  to  a  greatness  which  might  render  giddy  many  a  born 
prince's  brain.  But  with  my  fall,  Rome,  Italy,  Peace,  Justice, 
Civilization,  —  all  fall  back  into  the  abyss  of  ages  ! " 

He  rose ;  and  after  once  or  twice  pacing  his  apartment,  in 
which  from  many  a  column  gleamed  upon  him  the  marble  effi- 
gies of  the  great  of  old,  he  opened  the  casement  to  inhale  the 
air  of  the  now  declining  day. 

The  Place  of  the  Capitol  was  deserted,  save  by  the  tread  of 
the  single  sentinel.  But  still,  dark  and  fearful,  hung  from  the 
tall  gibbet  the  clay  of  the  robber  noble;  and  the  colossal 
shape  of  the  Egyptian  lion  rose  hard  by,  sharp  and  dark  in 
the  breathless  atmosphere. 

"  Dread  statue  ! "  thought  Rienzi,  "  how  many  unwhispered 
and  solemn  rites  hast  thou  witnessed  by  thy  native  Nile  ere 
the  Roman's  hand  transferred  thee  hither,  —  the  antique  wit- 
ness of  Roman  crimes !  Strange  !  but  when  I  look  upon  thee 
I  feel  as  if  thou  hadst  some  mystic  influence  over  my  own  for- 
tunes. Beside  thee  was  I  hailed  the  republican  lord  of  Rome ; 
beside  thee  are  my  palace,  my  tribunal,  the  place  of  my  justice, 
my  triumphs,  and  my  pomp ;  to  thee  my  eyes  turn  from  my  bed 
of  state ;  and  if  fated  to  die  in  power  and  peace,  thou  mayst  be 
the  last  object  my  eyes  will  mark  !  Or  if  myself  a  victim  —  " 


218  RIENZI : 

He  paused,  shrank  from  the  thought  presented  to  him, 
turned  to  a  recess  of  the  chamber,  drew  aside  a  curtain  that 
veiled  a  crucifix  and  a  small  table  on  which  lay  a  Bible  and 
the  monastic  emblems  of  the  skull  and  cross-bones,  —  emblems, 
indeed,  grave  and  irresistible,  of  the  nothingness  of  power  and 
the  uncertainty  of  life.  Before  these  sacred  monitors,  whether 
to  humble  or  to  elevate,  knelt  that  proud  and  aspiring  man ; 
and  when  he  rose,  it  was  with  a  lighter  step  and  more  cheerful 
mien  than  he  had  worn  that  day. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   ACTOR   UNMASKED. 

"  IN  intoxication,"  says  the  proverb,  "  men  betray  their  real 
characters."  There  is  a  no  less  honest  and  truth-revealing 
intoxication  in  prosperity  than  in  wine.  The  varnish  of  power 
brings  forth  at  once  the  defects  and  the  beauties  of  the  human 
portrait. 

The  unprecedented  and  almost  miraculous  rise  of  Rienzi 
from  the  rank  of  the  Pontiff's  official  to  the  Lord  of  Rome 
would  have  been  accompanied  with  a  yet  greater  miracle  if  it 
had  not  somewhat  dazzled  and  seduced  the  object  it  elevated. 
When,  as  in  well-ordered  states  and  tranquil  times,  men  rise 
slowly,  step  by  step,  they  accustom  themselves  to  their  grow- 
ing fortunes.  But  the  leap  of  an  hour  from  a  citizen  to  a 
prince,  from  the  victim  of  oppression  to  the  dispenser  of  jus- 
tice, is  a  transition  so  sudden  as  to  render  dizzy  the  most  sober 
brain.  And,  perhaps,  in  proportion  to  the  imagination,  the 
enthusiasm,  the  genius  of  the  man,  will  the  suddenness  be 
dangerous,  excite  too  extravagant  a  hope,  and  lead  to  too  chi- 
merical an  ambition.  The  qualities  that  made  him  rise,  hurry 
him  to  his  fall ;  and  victory  at  the  Marengo  of  his  fortunes 
urges  him  to  destruction  at  its  Moscow. 

In  his  greatness  Rienzi  did  not  so  much  acquire  new  quali- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  219 

ties  as  develop  in  brighter  light  and  deeper  shadow  those 
which  he  had  always  exhibited.  On  the  one  hand  he  was 
just,  resolute,  the  friend  of  the  oppressed,  the  terror  of  the 
oppressor.  His  wonderful  intellect  illumined  everything  it 
touched.  By  rooting  out  abuse,  and  by  searching  examination 
and  wise  arrangement,  he  had  trebled  the  revenues  of  the  city 
without  a  single  new  tax.  Faithful  to  his  idol  of  liberty,  he 
had  not  been  betrayed  by  the  wish  of  the  people  into  despotic 
authority,  but  had,  as  we  have  seen,  formally  revived,  and 
established  with  new  powers,  the  Parliamentary  Council  of 
the  city.  However  extensive  his  own  authority,  he  referred 
its  exercise  to  the  people;  in  their  name  he  alone  declared 
himself  to  govern,  and  he  never  executed  any  signal  action 
without  submitting  to  them  its  reasons  or  its  justification.  No 
less  faithful  to  his  desire  to  restore  prosperity  as  well  as  free- 
dom to  Rome,  he  had  seized  the  first  dazzling  epoch  of  his 
power  to  propose  that  great  federative  league  with  the  Italian 
States  which  would,  as  he  rightly  said,  have  raised  Rome  to  the 
indisputable  head  of  European  nations.  Under  his  rule  trade 
was  secure,  literature  was  welcome,  art  began  to  rise. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  prosperity  which  made  more  appar- 
ent his  justice,  his  integrity,  his  patriotism,  his  virtues,  and 
his  genius,  brought  out  no  less  glaringly  his  arrogant  con- 
sciousness of  superiority,  his  love  of  display,  and  the  wild  and 
daring  insolence  of  his  ambition.  Though  too  just  to  avenge 
himself  by  retaliating  on  the  patricians  their  own  violence; 
though  in  his  troubled  and  stormy  tribuneship  not  one  un- 
merited or  illegal  execution  of  baron  or  citizen  could  be  alleged 
against  him  even  by  his  enemies,  —  yet  sharing,  less  excusably, 
the  weakness  of  Nina,  he  could  not  deny  his  proud  heart  the 
pleasure  of  humiliating  those  who  had  ridiculed  him  as  a 
buffoon,  despised  him  as  a  plebeian,  and  who,  even  now  slaves 
to  his  face,  were  cynics  behind  his  back.  "  They  stood  before 
him  while  he  sat,"  says  his  biographer,  "all  these  Barons, 
bareheaded,  their  hands  crossed  on  their  breasts,  their  looks 
downcast :  oh,  how  frightened  they  were  ! "  —  a  picture  more 
disgraceful  to  the  servile  cowardice  of  the  nobles  than  the 
haughty  sternness  of  the  Tribune.  It  might  be  that  he  deemed 


220  RIENZI : 

it  policy  to  break  the  spirit  of  his  foes,  and  to  awe  those  whom 
it  w;is  a  vain  hope  to  conciliate. 

For  his  pomp  there  was  a  greater  excuse,  —  it  was  the 
custom  of  the  time ;  it  was  the  insignia  and  witness  of  power ; 
and  when  the  modern  historian  taunts  him  with  not  imitating 
the  simplicity  of  an  ancient  Tribune,  the  sneer  betrays  au 
ignorance  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  and  the  vain  people  whom 
the  chief  magistrate  was  to  govern.  No  doubt  his  gorgeous 
festivals,  his  solemn  processions,  set  off  and  ennobled  —  if 
parade  can  so  be  ennobled  —  by  a  refined  and  magnificent  rich- 
ness of  imagination,  associated  always  with  popular  emblems, 
and  designed  to  convey  the  idea  of  rejoicing  for  Liberty  Re- 
stored, and  to  assert  the  state  and  majesty  of  Koine  Revived, 
—  no  doubt  these  spectacles,  however  otherwise  judged  in  a 
more  enlightened  age  and  by  closet  sages,  served  greatly  to 
augment  the  importance  of  the  Tribune  abroad,  and  to  dazzle 
the  pride  of  a  fickle  and  ostentatious  populace.  And  taste 
grew  refined,  luxury  called  labor  into  requisition,  and  for- 
eigners from  all  states  were  attracted  by  the  splendor  of  a 
court  over  which  presided,  under  Republican  names,  two 
sovereigns,1  young  and  brilliant,  the  one  renowned  for  his 
genius,  the  other  eminent  for  her  beauty.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
dazzling  and  royal  dream  in  the  long  night  of  Rome,  spoiled 
of  her  Pontiff  and  his  voluptuous  train,  that  holiday  reign  of 
Cola  di  Rienzi !  And  often  afterwards  it  was  recalled  with  a 
sigh,  not  only  by  the  poor  for  its  justice,  the  merchant  for  its 
security,  but  the  gallant  for  its  splendor,  and  the  poet  for  its 
ideal  and  intellectual  grace ! 

As  if  to  show  that  it  was  not  to  gratify  the  more  vulgar  ap- 

1  Rienzi,  speaking  in  one  of  his  letters  of  his  great  enterprise,  refers  it  to 
the  ardor  of  youth.  The  exact  date  of  his  birth  is  unknown,  but  he  was  cer- 
tainly a  young  man  at  the  time  now  referred  to.  His  portrait  in  the  Museo 
Barberino,  from  which  his  description  has  been  already  taken  in  the  first  book 
of  this  work,  represents  him  as  beardless,  and,  as  far  as  one  can  judge,  some- 
where above  thirty, — old  enough,  to  be  sure,  to  have  a  beard ;  and  seven  years 
afterwards  he  wore  a  long  one,  which  greatly  displeased  his  naive  biographer, 
who  seems  to  consider  it  a  sort  of  crime.  The  head  is  very  remarkable  for  its 
stern  beauty,  and  little,  if  at  all,  inferior  to  that  of  Napoleon  ;  to  which,  as  I 
before  remarked,  it  has  some  resemblance  in  expression,  if  not  in  feature. 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  221 

petite  and  desire,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  pomp,  when  the  board 
groaned  with  the  delicacies  of  every  clime,  when  the  wine  most 
freely  circled,  the  Tribune  himself  preserved  a  temperate  and 
even  rigid  abstinence.1  While  the  apartments  of  state  and  the 
chamber  of  his  bride  were  adorned  with  a  profuse  luxury  and 
cost,  to  his  own  private  rooms  he  transported  precisely  the 
same  furniture  which  had  been  familiar  to  him  in  his  obscurer 
life.  The  books,  the  busts,  the  reliefs,  the  arms  which  had 
inspired  him  heretofore  with  the  visions  of  the  past,  were  en- 
deared by  associations  which  he  did  not  care  to  forego. 

But  that  which  constituted  the  most  singular  feature  of  his 
character,  and  which  still  wraps  all  around  him  in  a  certain 
mystery,  was  his  religious  enthusiasm.  The  daring  but  wild 
doctrines  of  Arnold  of  Brescia,  who,  two  centuries  anterior,  had 
preached  reform,  but  inculcated  mysticism,  still  lingered  in 
Rome,  and  had  in  earlier  youth  deeply  colored  the  mind  of 
Rienzi ;  and  as  I  have  before  observed,  his  youthful  propensity 
to  dreamy  thought,  the  melancholy  death  of  his  brother,  his 
own  various  but  successful  fortunes,  had  all  contributed  to 
nurse  the  more  zealous  and  solemn  aspirations  of  this  remark- 
able man.  Like  Arnold  of  Brescia,  his  faith  bore  a  strong  re- 
semblance to  the  intense  fanaticism  of  our  own  Puritans  of  the 
Civil  War,  as  if  similar  political  circumstances  conduced  to 
similar  religious  sentiments.  He  believed  himself  inspired  by  \J 
awful  and  mighty  commune  with  beings  of  the  better  world ; 
saints  and  angels  ministered  to  his  dreams ;  and  without  this, 
the  more  profound  and  hallowed  enthusiasm,  he  might  never 
have  been  sufficiently  emboldened  by  mere  human  patriotism 
to  his  unprecedented  enterprise :  it  was  the  secret  of  much  of 
his  greatness,  many  of  his  errors.  Like  all  men  who  are  thus 
self-deluded  by  a  vain  but  not  inglorious  superstition,  united 
with  and  colored  by  earthly  ambition,  it  is  impossible  to  say 
how  far  he  was  the  visionary,  and  how  far  at  times  he  dared 
to  be  the  impostor.  In  the  ceremonies  of  his  pageants,  in  the 
ornaments  of  his  person,  were  invariably  introduced  mystic  and 
figurative  emblems.  In  times  of  danger  he  publicly  professed 

1  Vita  di  Cola  di  Rienzi.  —  The  biographer  praises  the  abstinence  of  the 
Tribune. 


222  RIENZI : 

to  have  been  cheered  and  directed  by  divine  dreams ;  and  on 
many  occasions,  the  prophetic  warnings  he  announced  having 
been  singularly  verified  by  the  event,  his  influence  with  the 
people  was  strengthened  by  a  belief  in  the  favor  and  inter- 
course of  Heaven.  Thus  delusion  of  self  might  tempt  and 
conduce  to  imposition  on  others,  and  he  might  not  scruple  to 
avail  himself  of  the  advantage  of  seeming  what  he  believed 
himself  to  be.  Yet  no  doubt  this  intoxicating  credulity  pushed 
him  into  extravagance  unworthy  of,  and  strangely  contrasted 
by,  his  soberer  intellect,  and  made  him  disproportion  his  vast 
ends  to  his  unsteady  means  by  the  proud  fallacy  that  where 
man  failed,  God  would  interpose.  Cola  di  Eienzi  was  no  fault- 
less hero  of  romance.  In  him  lay,  in  conflicting  prodigality, 
the  richest  and  most  opposite  elements  of  character,  —  strong 
sense,  visionary  superstition,  an  eloquence  and  energy  that 
mastered  all  he  approached,  a  blind  enthusiasm  that  mastered 
himself;  luxury  and  abstinence,  sternness  and  susceptibility, 
pride  to  the  great,  humility  to  the  low ;  the  most  devoted  pa- 
triotism and  the  most  avid  desire  of  personal  power.  As  few 
men  undertake  great  and  desperate  designs  without  strong 
animal  spirits,  so  it  may  be  observed  that  with  most  who  have 
risen  to  eminence  over  the  herd  there  is  an  aptness,  at  times, 
to  a  wild  mirth  and  an  elasticity  of  humor  which  often  astonish 
the  more  sober  and  regulated  minds  that  are  "the  commoners 
of  life ; "  and  the  theatrical  grandeur  of  Napoleon,  the  severe 
dignity  of  Cromwell,  are  strangely  contrasted  by  a  frequent, 
nor  always  seasonable,  buffoonery,  which  it  is  hard  to  reconcile 
with  the  ideal  of  their  characters  or  the  gloomy  and  portentous 
interest  of  their  careers.  And  this,  equally  a  trait  in  the  tem- 
perament of  Rlenzi,  distinguished  his  hours  of  relaxation,  and 
contributed  to  that  marvellous  versatility  with  which  his  harder 
nature  accommodated  itself  to  all  humors  and  all  men.  Often 
from  his  austere  judgment-seat  he  passed  to  the  social  board 
an  altered  man ;  and  even  the  sullen  Barons,  who  reluctantly 
attended  his  feasts,  forgot  his  public  greatness  in  his  familiar 
wit ;  albeit  this  reckless  humor  could  not  always  refrain  from 
seeking  its  subject  in  the  mortification  of  his  crestfallen  foes, 
—  a  pleasure  it  would  have  been  wiser  and  more  generous  to 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  223 

forego.  And  perhaps  it  was,  in  part,  the  prompting  of  this 
sarcastic  and  unbridled  humor  that  made  him  often  love  to 
astonish  as  well  as  to  awe.  But  even  this  gayety,  if  so  it  may 
be  called,  taking  an  appearance  of  familiar  frankness,  served 
much  to  ingratiate  him  with  the  lower  orders ;  and  if  a  fault 
in  the  prince,  was  a  virtue  in  the  demagogue. 

To  these  various  characteristics,  now  fully  developed,  the 
reader  must  add  a  genius  of  designs  so  bold,  of  conceptions  so 
gigantic  and  august,  conjoined  with  that  more  minute  and  ordi- 
nary ability  which  masters  details,  that  with  a  brave,  noble, 
intelligent,  devoted  people  to  back  his  projects,  the  accession  of 
the  Tribune  would  have  been  the  close  of  the  thraldom  of  Italy 
and  the  abrupt  limit  of  the  dark  age  of  Europe.  With  such  a 
people  his  faults  would  have  been  insensibly  checked,  his  more 
unwholesome  power  have  received  a  sufficient  curb.  Experi- 
ence, familiarizing  him  with  power,  would  have  gradually 
weaned  him  from  extravagance  in  its  display ;  and  the  active 
and  masculine  energy  of  his  intellect  would  have  found  field 
for  the  more  restless  spirits,  as  his  justice  gave  shelter  to 
the  more  tranquil.  Faults  he  had;  but  whether  those  faults, 
or  the  faults  of  the  people,  were  to  prepare  his  downfall,  is 
yet  to  be  seen. 

Meanwhile,  amidst  a  discontented  nobility  and  a  fickle  popu- 
lace, urged  on  by  the  danger  of  repose  to  the  danger  of  enter- 
prise ;  partly  blinded  by  his  outward  power,  partly  impelled  by 
the  fear  of  internal  weakness ;  at  once  made  sanguine  by  his 
genius  and  his  fanaticism,  and  uneasy  by  the  expectations  of 
the  crowd,  —  he  threw  himself  headlong  into  the  gulf  of  the 
rushing  Time,  and  surrendered  his  lofty  spirit  to  no  other 
guidance  than  a  conviction  of  its  natural  buoyancy  and  its 
heaven-directed  haven. 


224  RIENZI : 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  ENEMY'S  CAMP. 

WHILE  Rienzi  was  preparing,  in  concert,  perhaps,  with  the 
ambassadors  of  the  brave  Tuscan  states,  —  whose  pride  of 
country  and  love  of  liberty  were  well  fitted  to  compre- 
hend, and  even  share  them, — his  schemes  for  the  emanci- 
pation from  all  foreign  yoke  of  the  Ancient  Queen  and  the 
Everlasting  Garden  of  the  World,  the  Barons,  in  restless 
secrecy,  were  revolving  projects  for  the  restoration  of  their  own 
power. 

One  morning  the  heads  of  the  Savelli,  the  Orsini,  and  the 
Frangipani  met  at  the  disfortified  palace  of  Stephen  Colonna. 
Their  conference  was  warm  and  earnest ;  now  resolute,  now 
wavering,  in  its  object,  as  indignation  or  fear  prevailed. 

"  You  have  heard,"  said  Luca  di  Savelli,  in  his  usual  soft  and 
womanly  voice,  "  that  the  Tribune  has  proclaimed  that,  the  day 
after  to-morrow,  he  will  take  the  order  of  knighthood,  and  watch 
the  night  before  in  the  Church  of  the  Lateran !  He  has  honored 
me  with  a  request  to  attend  his  vigil." 

"  Yes,  yes,  the  knave  !  What  means  this  new  fantasy  ?  " 
said  the  brutal  Prince  of  the  Orsini. 

"Unless  it  be  to  have  the  cavalier's  right  to  challenge  a 
noble,"  said  old  Colonna,  "  I  cannot  conjecture.  Will  Rome 
never  grow  weary  of  this  madman  ?  " 

"  Rome  is  the  more  mad  of  the  two,"  said  Luca  di  Savelli ; 
"  but  methinks,  in  his  wildness,  the  Tribune  hath  committed  one 
error  of  which  we  may  well  avail  ourselves  at  Avignon." 

"  Ah ! "  cried  the  old  Colonna,  "  that  must  be  our  game : 
passive  here,  let  us  fight  at  Avignon." 

"  In  a  word,  then,  he  hath  ordered  that  his  bath  shall  be 
prepared  in  the  holy  porphyry  vase  in  which  once  bathed  the 
Emperor  Constantine." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  225 

"  Profanation  !  profanation  ! "  cried  Stephen.  "  This  is 
enough  to  excuse  a  bull  of  excommunication.  The  Pope  shall 
hear  of  it.  I  will  despatch  a  courier  forthwith." 

"  Better  wait  and  see  the  ceremony,"  said  the  Savelli ;  "  some 
greater  folly  will  close  the  pomp,  be  assured." 

"  Hark  ye,  my  masters  ! "  said  the  grim  lord  of  the  Orsini, 
"  ye  are  for  delay  and  caution ;  I  for  promptness  and  daring. 
My  kinsman's  blood  calls  aloud,  and  brooks  no  parley." 

"  And  what  do  ?  "  said  the  soft- voiced  Savelli :  "  fight, 
without  soldiers,  against  twenty  thousand  infuriated  Komans  ? 
Not  I." 

Orsini  sank  his  voice  into  a  meaning  whisper.  "  In  Venice," 
said  he,  "this  upstart  might  be  mastered  without  an  army. 
Think  you  in  Rome  no  man  wears  a  stiletto  ?  " 

"  Hush ! "  said  Stephen,  who  was  of  far  nobler  and  bet- 
ter nature  than  his  compeers,  and  who,  justifying  to  himself 
all  other  resistance  to  the  Tribune,  felt  his  conscience  rise 
against  assassination ;  "  this  must  not  be,  —  your  zeal  trans- 
ports you." 

"  Besides,  whom  can  we  employ  ?  Scarce  a  German  left  in 
the  city ;  and  to  whisper  this  to  a  Koman  were  to  exchange 
places  with  poor  Martino,  Heaven  take  him  !  for  he 's  nearer 
Heaven  than  ever  he  was  before,"  said  the  Savelli. 

"  Jest  me  no  jests  !  "  cried  the  Orsini,  fiercely.  "  Jests  on 
such  a  subject !  By  Saint  Francis,  I  would,  since  thou  lovest 
such  wit,  thou  hadst  it  all  to  thyself ;  and,  methinks,  at  the 
Tribune's  board  I  have  seen  thee  laugh  at  his  rude  humor  as 
if  thou  didst  not  require  a  cord  to  choke  thee." 

"  Better  to  laugh  than  to  tremble,"  returned  the  Savelli. 

"  How !  darest  thou  say  I  tremble  ?  "  cried  the  Baron. 

"Hush,  hush!"  said  the  veteran  Colonna,  with  impatient 
dignity.  "  We  are  not  now  in  such  holiday  times  as  to  quarrel 
amongst  ourselves.  Forbear,  my  lords !  " 

"  Your  greater  prudence,  Signer,"  said  the  sarcastic  Savelli, 
"arises  from  your  greater  safety.  Your  house  is  about  to 
shelter  itself  under  the  Tribune's  ;  and  when  the  Lord  Adrian 
returns  from  Naples,  the  innkeeper's  son  will  be  brother  to 
your  kinsman." 

VOL.   I.  —  15 


226  RIENZI : 

"  You  might  spare  me  that  taunt/'  said  the  old  noble,  with 
some  emotion.  "  Heaven  knows  how  bitterly  I  have  chafed  at 
the  thought;  yet  I  would  Adrian  were  with  us*.  His  word 
goes  far  to  moderate  the  Tribune  and  to  guide  my  own  course, 
for  my  passion  beguiles  my  reason ;  and  since  his  departure 
methinks  we  have  been  the  more  sullen  without  being  the  more 
strong.  Let  this  pass.  If  my  own  son  had  wed  the  Tribune's 
sister,  I  would  yet  strike  a  blow  for  the  old  constitution,  as  be- 
comes a  noble,  if  I  but  saw  that  the  blow  would  not  cut  off  my 
own  head." 

Savelli,  who  had  been  whispering  apart  with  Kinaldo  Fran- 
gipani,  now  said,  — 

"  Noble  Prince,  listen  to  me.  You  are  bound  by  your  kins- 
man's approaching  connection,  your  venerable  age,  and  your 
intimacy  with  the  Pontiff,  to  a  greater  caution  than  we  are. 
Leave  to  us  the  management  of  the  enterprise,  and  be  assured 
of  our  discretion." 

A  young  boy,  Stefanello,  who  afterwards  succeeded  to  the 
representation  of  the  direct  line  of  the  Colonna,  and  whom  the 
reader  will  once  again  encounter  ere  our  tale  be  closed,  was 
playing  by  his  grandsire's  knees.  He  looked  sharply  up  at 
Savelli,  and  said,  "  My  grandfather  is  too  wise,  and  you  are  too 
timid ;  Frangipani  is  too  yielding,  and  Orsini  is  too  like  a  vexed 
bull.  I  wish  I  were  a  year  or  two  older." 

"  And  what  would  you  do,  my  pretty  censurer  ?  "  said  the 
smooth  Savelli,  biting  his  smiling  lip. 

"  Stab  the  Tribune  with  my  own  stiletto,  and  then  hey  for 
Palestrina ! " 

"  The  egg  will  hatch  a  brave  serpent,"  quoth  the  Savelli. 
"  Yet  why  so  bitter  against  the  Tribune,  my  cockatrice  ?  " 

"  Because  he  allowed  an  insolent  mercer  to  arrest  my  uncle 
Agapet  for  debt.  The  debt  had  been  owed  these  ten  years ; 
and  though  it  is  said  that  no  house  in  Rome  has  owed  more 
money  than  the  Colonna,  this  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  of 
a  rascally  creditor  being  allowed  to  claim  his  debt  unless 
with  doffed  cap  and  bended  knee.  And  I  say  that  I  would 
not  live  to  be  a  Baron,  if  such  upstart  insolence  is  to  be  put 
upon  me." 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  227 

"  My  child,"  said  old  Stephen,  laughing  heartily,  "  I  see  our 
noble  order  will  be  safe  enough  in  your  hands." 

"  And,"  continued  the  child,  emboldened  by  the  applause  he 
received,  "  if  I  had  time,  after  pricking  the  Tribune,  I  would 
fain  have  a  second  stroke  at  —  " 

"  Whom  ?  "  said  the  Savelli,  observing  the  boy  pause. 

"  My  cousin  Adrian.  Shame  on  him  for  dreaming  to  make 
one  a  wife  whose  birth  would  scarce  fit  her  for  a  Colonna's 
leman ! " 

"  Go  play,  my  child,  go  play,"  said  the  old  Colonna,  as  he 
pushed  the  boy  from  him. 

"  Enough  of  this  babble,"  cried  the  Orsini,  rudely.  "  Tell 
me,  old  lord,  just  as  I  entered,  I  saw  an  old  friend  (one  of 
your  former  mercenaries)  quit  the  palace :  may  I  crave  his 
errand  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  —  a  messenger  from  Fra  Moreale.  I  wrote  to  the 
Knight,  reproving  him  for  his  desertion  on  our  ill-starred  re- 
turn from  Corneto,  and  intimating  that  five  hundred  lances 
would  be  highly  paid  for  just  now." 

"  Ah ! "  said  Savelli ;  "  and  what  is  his  answer  ?  " 

"  Oh !  wily  and  evasive.  He  is  profuse  in  compliments  and 
good  wishes,  but  says  he  is  under  fealty  to  the  Hungarian 
king,  whose  cause  is  before  Bienzi's  tribunal ;  that  he  cannot 
desert  his  present  standard ;  that  he  fears  Rome  is  so  evenly 
balanced  between  patricians  and  the  people  that  whatever 
party  would  permanently  be  uppermost  must  call  in  a  Podesta ; 
and  this  character  alone  the  Prove^al  insinuates  would  suit 
him." 

"  Montreal  our  Podesta  ?  "  cried  the  Orsini. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  said  Savelli.  "  As  good  a  well-born  Po- 
desta as  a  low-born  Tribune  !  But  I  trust  we  may  do  without 
either.  Colonna,  has  this  messenger  from  Fra  Moreale  left  the 
city  ?  » 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  No,"  said  Orsini ;  "  I  met  him  at  the  gate,  and  knew  him  of 
old :  it  is  Rodolf  the  Saxon,  once  a  hireling  of  the  Colonna, 
who  has  made  some  widows  among  my  clients  in  the  good  old 
day.  He  is  a  little  disguised  now  ;  however,  I  recognized  and 


RIENZI : 

accosted  him,  for  T  thought  he  was  one  who  might  yet  become 
a  friend,  and  I  bade  him  await  me  at  my  palace." 

"  You  did  well,"  said  the  Savelli,  musing,  and  his  eyes  met 
those  of  Orsini.  Shortly  afterwards  a  conference  in  which 
much  was  said  and  nothing  settled  was  broken  up ;  but  Luca 
di  Savelli,  loitering  at  the  porch,  prayed  the  Frangipani  and  the 
other  Barons  to  adjourn  to  the  Orsini's  palace. 

"The  old  Colonna,"  said  he,  "is  wellnigh  in  his  dotage. 
We  shall  come  to  a  quick  determination  without  him,  and  we 
can  secure  his  proxy  in  his  son." 

And  this  was  a  true  prophecy;  for  half-an-hour's  consul- 
tation with  Rodolf  of  Saxony  sufficed  to  ripen  thought  into 
enterprise. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE   NIGHT   AND    ITS    INCIDENTS. 

WITH  the  following  twilight,  Rome  was  summoned  to  the 
commencement  of  the  most  magnificent  spectacle  the  Imperial 
City  had  witnessed  since  the  fall  of  the  Caesars.  It  had  been 
a  singular  privilege,  arrogated  by  the  people  of  Rome,  to  con- 
fer upon  their  citizens  the  order  of  knighthood.  Twenty  years 
before,  a  Colonna  and  an  Orsini  had  received  this  popular 
honor.  Rienzi,  who  designed  it  as  the  prelude  to  a  more  im- 
portant ceremony,  claimed  from  the  Romans  a  similar  dis- 
tinction. From  the  Capitol  in  the  Lateran  swept,  in  long 
procession,  all  that  Rome  boasted  of  noble,  of  fair,  and  brave. 
First  went  horsemen  without  number,  and  from  all  the  neigh- 
boring parts  of  Italy,  in  apparel  that  well  befitted  the  occasion. 
Trumpeters  and  musicians  of  all  kinds  followed,  and  the 
trumpets  were  of  silver;  youths  bearing  the  harness  of  the 
knightly  war-steed,  wrought  with  gold,  preceded  the  march  of 
the  loftiest  matronage  of  Rome,  whose  love  for  show,  and  it 
may  be  whose  admiration  for  triumphant  fame  (which  to 
women  sanctions  many  offences),  made  them  forget  the  hum- 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  229 

bled  greatness  of  their  lords,  —  amidst  them  Nina  and  Irene, 
outshining  all  the  rest ;  then  came  the  Tribune  and  the  Pon- 
tiff's Vicar,  surrounded  by  all  the  great  signers  of  the  city, 
smothering  alike  resentment,  revenge,  and  scorn,  and  strug- 
gling who  should  approach  nearest  to  the  monarch  of  the  day. 
The  high-hearted  old  Colonna  alone  remained  aloof,  following 
at  a  little  distance,  and  in  a  garb  studiously  plain.  But  his 
age,  his  rank,  his  former  renown  in  war  and  state,  did  not 
suffice  to  draw  to  his  gray  locks  and  high-born  mien  a  single 
one  of  the  shouts  that  attended  the  meanest  lord  on  whom  the 
great  Tribune  smiled.  Savelli  followed  nearest  to  Kienzi,  the 
most  obsequious  of  the  courtly  band;  immediately  before 
the  Tribune  came  two  men :  the  one  bore  a  drawn  sword,  the 
other  the  pendone,  or  standard  usually  assigned  to  royalty. 
The  Tribune  himself  was  clothed  in  a  long  robe  of  white  satin, 
whose  snowy  dazzle  (miri  candoris)  is  peculiarly  dwelt  on  by 
the  historian,  richly  decorated  with  gold ;  while  on  his  breast 
were  many  of  those  mystic  symbols  I  have  before  alluded  to, 
the  exact  meaning  of  which  was  perhaps  known  only  to  the 
wearer.  In  his  dark  eye,  and  on  that  large  tranquil  brow,  in 
which  thought  seemed  to  sleep,  as  sleeps  a  storm,  there  might 
be  detected  a  mind  abstracted  from  the  pomp  around ;  but  ever 
and  anon  he  aroused  himself,  and  conversed  partially  with 
Eaimond  or  Savelli. 

"  This  is  a  quaint  game,"  said  the  Orsini,  falling  back  to  the 
old  Colonna ;  "  but  it  may  end  tragically." 

"  Methinks  it  may,"  said  the  old  man,  "  if  the  Tribune  over- 
hear thee." 

Orsini  grew  pale.  "  How  ?  Nay,  nay ;  even  if  he  did,  he 
never  resents  words,  but  professes  to  laugh  at  our  spoken 
rage.  It  was  but  the  other  day  that  some  knave  told  him 
what  one  of  the  Annibaldi  said  of  him,  —  words  for  which 
a  true  cavalier  would  have  drawn  the  speaker's  life's  blood ; 
and  he  sent  for  the  Annibaldi  and  said,  '  My  friend,  receive 
this  purse  of  gold,  —  court  wit  should  be  paid.'  " 

"  Did  Annibaldi  take  the  gold  ?  " 

"  Why,  no.  The  Tribune  was  pleased  with  the  spirit,  and 
made  him  sup  with  him ;  and  Annibaldi  says  he  never  spent 


280  RIENZI : 

a  merrier  evening,  and  no  longer  wonders  that  his  kinsman, 
Riccardo,  loves  the  buffoon  so." 

Arrived  now  at  the  Lateran,  Luca  di  Savelli  fell  also  back, 
and  whispered  to  Orsini ;  the  Frangipani  and  some  others  of 
the  nobles  exchanged  meaning  looks ;  Rienzi,  entering  the 
sacred  edifice,  in  which,  according  to  custom,  he  was  to  pass 
the  night  watching  his  armor,  bade  the  crowd  farewell,  and 
summoned  them  the  next  morning,  "  To  hear  things  that  might, 
he  trusted,  be  acceptable  to  heaven  and  earth." 

The  immense  multitude  received  this  intimation  with  curi- 
osity and  gladness,  while  those  who  had  been  in  some  measure 
prepared  by  Cecco  del  Vecchio,  hailed  it  as  an  omen  of  their 
Tribune's  unflagging  resolution.  The  concourse  dispersed  with 
singular  order  and  quietness  ;  it  was  recorded  as  a  remarkable 
fact  that  in  so  great  a  crowd,  composed  of  men  of  all  parties, 
none  exhibited  license  or  indulged  in  quarrel.  Some  of  the 
barons  and  cavaliers,  among  whom  was  Luca  di  Savelli,  whose 
sleek  urbanity  and  sarcastic  humor  found  favor  with  the  Trib- 
une, and  a  few  subordinate  pages  and  attendants  alone  re- 
mained ;  and  save  a  single  sentinel  at  the  porch,  that  broad 
space  before  the  Palace,  the  Basilica  and  Fount  of  Constantiue, 
soon  presented  a  silent  and  desolate  void  to  the  melancholy 
moonlight.  Within  the  church,  according  to  the  usage  of  the 
time  and  rite,  the  descendant  of  the  Teuton  kings  received  the 
order  of  the  Santo  Spirito.  His  pride  or  some  superstition 
equally  weak,  though  more  excusable,  led  him  to  bathe  in  the 
porphyry  vase  which  an  absurd  legend  consecrated  to  Con- 
stantine ;  and  this,  as  Savelli  predicted,  cost  him  dear.  These 
appointed  ceremonies  concluded,  his  arms  were  placed  in  the 
part  of  the  church  within  the  columns  of  St.  John.  And  here 
his  state  bed  was  prepared.1 

The  attendant  barons,  pages,  and  chamberlains  retired  out 
of  sight  to  a  small  side  chapel  in  the  edifice,  and  Rienzi  was 
left  alone.  A  single  lamp,  placed  beside  his  bed,  contended 
with  the  mournful  rays  of  the  moon,  that  cast  through  the 

1  In  a  more  northern  country,  the  eve  of  knighthood  would  have  been  spent 
without  sleeping.  In  Italy,  the  ceremony  of  watching  the  armor  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  so  rigidly  observed. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUXES.  231 

long  casements,  over  aisle  and  pillar,  its  "  dim  religious  light." 
The  sanctity  of  the  place,  the  solemnit}r  of  the  hour,  and  the 
solitary  silence  round  were  well  calculated  to  deepen  the  high- 
wrought  and  earnest  mood  of  that  son  of  fortune.  Many  and 
high  fancies  swept  over  his  mind,  —  now  of  worldly  aspira- 
tions, now  of  more  august  but  visionary  belief,  till  at  length, 
wearied  with  his  own  reflections,  he  cast  himself  on  the  bed. 
It  was  an  omen,  which  graver  history  has  not  neglected  to 
record,  that  the  moment  he  pressed  the  bed,  new  prepared  for 
the  occasion,  part  of  it  sank  under  him.  He  himself  was 
affected  by  the  accident,  and  sprang  forth,  turning  pale  and 
muttering ;  but  as  if  ashamed  of  his  weakness,  after  a  moment's 
pause  again  composed  himself  to  rest,  and  drew  the  drapery 
round  him. 

The  moonbeams  grew  fainter  and  more  faint  as  the  time 
proceeded,  and  the  sharp  distinction  between  light  and  shade 
faded  fast  from  the  marble  floor,  when  from  behind  a  column 
at  the  farthest  verge  of  the  building  a  strange  shadow  suddenly 
crossed  the  sickly  light ;  it  crept  on ;  it  moved,  but  without 
an  echo ;  from  pillar  to  pillar  it  flitted ;  it  rested  at  last 
behind  the  column  nearest  to  the  Tribune's  bed ;  it  remained 
stationary. 

The  shades  gathered  darker  and  darker  round ;  the  stillness 
seemed  to  deepen ;  the  moon  was  gone ;  and  save  from  the 
struggling  ray  of  the  lamp  beside  Rienzi,  the  blackness  of 
night  closed  over  the  solemn  and  ghostly  scene. 

In  one  of  the  side  chapels,  as  I  have  before  said,  which,  in 
the  many  alterations  the  church  has  undergone  is  probably 
long  since  destroyed,  were  Savelli  and  the  few  attendants 
retained  by  the  Tribune.  Savelli  alone  slept  not ;  he  remained 
sitting  erect,  breathless,  and  listening,  while  the  tall  lights  in 
the  chapel  rendered  yet  more  impressive  the  rapid  changes  of 
his  countenance. 

"  Now  pray  Heaven,"  said  he,  "  the  knave  miscarry  not ! 
Such  an  occasion  may  never  again  occur!  He  has  a  strong 
arm  and  a  dexterous  hand,  doubtless ;  but  the  other  is  a  power- 
ful man.  The  deed  once  done,  I  care  not  whether  the  doer 
escape  or  not ;  if  not,  why  we  must  stab  him  !  Dead  men  tell 


232  RIENZI : 

no  tales.  At  the  worst,  who  can  avenge  Rienzi  ?  There  is  no 
other  llienzi !  Ourselves  and  the  Frangipaui  seize  the  Aven- 
tine;  the  Colonna  and  the  Orsini  the  other  quarters  of  the 
city ;  and  without  the  master-spirit,  we  may  laugh  at  the  mad 
populace.  But  if  discovered  — ,"  and  Savelli,  who,  fortunately 
for  his  foes,  had  not  nerves  equal  to  his  will,  covered  his  face 
and  shuddered.  "  I  think  I  hear  a  noise  !  No,  —  is  it  the 
wind  ?  Tush,  it  must  be  old  Vico  de  Scotto,  turning  in  his 
shell  of  mail !  Silent,  —  I  like  not  that  silence  !  No  cry,  no 
sound !  Can  the  ruffian  have  played  us  false  ?  or  could  he  not 
scale  the  casement?  It  is  but  a  child's  effort,  —  or  did  the 
sentry  spy  him  ?  " 

Time  passed  on ;  the  first  ray  of  daylight  slowly  gleamed, 
when  he  thought  he  heard  the  door  of  the  church  close.  Sa- 
velli's  suspense  became  intolerable  ;  he  stole  from  the  chapel, 
and  came  in  sight  of  the  Tribune's  bed ;  all  was  silent. 

"  Perhaps  the  silence  of  death,"  said  Savelli,  as  he  crept  back. 

Meanwhile  the  Tribune,  vainly  endeavoring  to  close  his 
eyes,  was  rendered  yet  more  watchful  by  the  uneasy  position 
he  was  obliged  to  assume;  for  the  part  of  the  bed  towards 
the  pillow  having  given  way,  while  the  rest  remained  solid, 
he  had  inverted  the  legitimate  order  of  lying,  and  drawn 
himself  up,  as  he  might  best  accommodate  his  limbs,  towards 
the  foot  of  the  bed.  The  light  of  the  lamp,  though  shaded  by 
the  draperies,  was  thus  opposite  to  him.  Impatient  of  his 
wakefulness,  he  at  last  thought  it  was  this  dull  and  flickering 
light  which  scared  away  the  slumber,  and  was  about  to  rise 
to  remove  it  farther  from  him,  when  he  saw  the  curtain  at  the 
other  end  of  the  bed  gently  lifted.  He  remained  quiet  and 
alarmed ;  ere  he  could  draw  a  second  breath,  a  dark  figure 
interposed  between  the  light  and  the  bed,  and  he  felt  that  a 
stroke  was  aimed  against  that  part  of  the  couch  which,  but  for 
the  accident  that  had  seemed  to  him  ominous,  would  have 
given  his  breast  to  the  knife.  Rienzi  waited  not  a  second  and 
better-directed  blow  ;  as  the  assassin  yet  stooped,  groping  in 
the  uncertain  light,  he  threw  on  him  all  the  weight  and  power 
of  his  large  and  muscular  frame,  wrenched  the  stiletto  from 
the  bravo's  hand,  and  dashing  him  on  the  bed,  placed  his  knee 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  233 

on  his  breast.  The  stiletto  rose,  gleamed,  descended ;  the 
murderer  swerved  aside,  and  it  pierced  only  his  right  arm. 
The  Tribune  raised,  for  a  deadlier  blow,  the  revengeful  blade. 

The  assassin  thus  foiled  was  a  man  used  to  all  form  and 
shape  of  danger,  and  he  did  not  now  lose  his  presence  of  mind. 

"  Hold ! "  said  he ;  "  if  you  kill  me,  you  will  die  yourself. 
Spare  me,  and  I  will  save  you" 

"  Miscreant ! " 

"  Hush !  not  so  loud,  or  you  will  disturb  your  attendants, 
and  some  of  them  may  do  what  I  have  failed  to  execute. 
Spare  me,  I  say,  and  I  will  reveal  that  which  were  worth  more 
than  my  life ;  but  call  not,  speak  not  aloud,  I  warn  you  !  " 

The  Tribune  felt  his  heart  stand  still.  In  that  lonely  place, 
afar  from  his  idolizing  people,  his  devoted  guards,  with  but 
loathing  barons,  or,  it  might  be,  faithless  menials,  within  call, 
might  not  the  baffled  •  murderer  give  a  wholesome  warning  ? 
And  those  words  and  that  doubt  seemed  suddenly  to  reverse 
their  respective  positions,  and  leave  the  conqueror  still  in  the 
assassin's  power. 

"Thou  thinkest  to  deceive  me,"  said  he,  but  in  a  voice 
whispered  and  uncertain,  which  showed  the  ruffian  the  advan- 
tage he  had  gained  ;  "  thou  wouldst  that  I  might  release  thee 
without  summoning  my  attendants,  that  thou  mightst  a  second 
time  attempt  my  life." 

"  Thou  hast  disabled  my  right  arm,  and  disarmed  me  of  my 
only  weapon." 

"  How  earnest  thou  hither  ?  " 

"  By  connivance." 

"Whence  this  attempt  ?  " 

"  The  dictation  of  others." 

"  If  I  pardon  thee  —  " 

"Thou  shalt  know  all." 

"Rise,"  said  the  Tribune,  releasing  his  prisoner,  but  with 
great  caution,  and  still  grasping  his  shoulder  with  one  hand, 
while  the  other  pointed  the  dagger  at  his  throat.  "  Did  my 
sentry  admit  thee  ?  There  is  but  one  entrance  to  the  church, 
methinks." 

"  He  did  not ;  follow  me,  and  I  will  tell  thee  more." 


234  RIENZI : 

"  Dog !  them  hast  accomplices  !  " 

"  If  I  have,  thou  hast  the  knife  at  my  throat." 

"  Wouldst  thou  escape  ?  " 

"  I  cannot,  or  I  would." 

Rienzi  looked  hard,  by  the  dull  light  of  the  lamp,  at  the 
assassin.  His  rugged  and  coarse  countenance,  rude  garb,  and 
barbarian  speech  seemed  to  him  proof  sufficient  that  he  was 
but  the  hireling  of  others,  and  it  might  be  wise  to  brave  one 
danger  present  and  certain,  to  prevent  much  danger  future  and 
unforeseen.  Rienzi  too  was  armed,  strong,  active,  in  the  prime 
of  life ;  and  at  the  worst  there  was  no  part  of  the  building 
whence  his  voice  would  not  reach  those  within  the  chapel,  — 
if  they  could  be  depended  upon. 

"  Show  me  then  thy  place  arid  means  of  entrance,"  said  he ; 
"  and  if  I  but  suspect  thee  as  we  move,  thou  diest.  Take  up 
the  lamp." 

The  ruffian  nodded,  with  his  left  hand  took  up  the  lamp  as 
he  was  ordered,  and  with  Rienzi's  grasp  on  his  shoulder,  while 
the  wound  from  his  right  arm  dropped  gore  as  he  passed,  he 
,  moved  noiselessly  along  the  church,  gained  the  altar,  to  the 
left  of  which  was  a  small  room  for  the  use  or  retirement  of  the 
priest.  To  this  he  made  his  way.  Rienzi's  heart  misgave 
him  a  moment. 

"  Beware ! "  he  whispered  j  "  the  least  sign  of  fraud,  and 
thou  art  the  first  victim ! " 

The  assassin  nodded  again,  and  proceeded.  They  entered 
the  room ;  and  then  the  Tribune's  strange  guide  pointed  to  an 
open  casement.  "  Behold  my  entrance,"  said  he j  "  and,  if  you 
permit  me,  my  egress  —  " 

"  The  frog  gets  not  out  of  the  well  so  easily  as  he  came  in, 
friend,"  returned  Rienzi,  smiling.  "  And  now,  if  I  am  not  to 
call  my  guards,  what  am  I  to  do  with  thee  ?  " 

"  Let  me  go,  and  I  will  seek  thee  to-morrow ;  and  if  thou 
payest  me  handsomely,  and  promisest  not  to  harm  limb  or  life, 
I  will  put  thine  enemies  and  my  employers  in  thy  power." 

Rienzi  could  not  refrain  from  a  slight  laugh  at  the  proposi- 
tion, but  composing  himself,  replied :  "  And  what  if  I  call  my 
attendants,  and  give  thee  to  their  charge  ?  " 


THE  LAST  OF  THE   TRIBUNES.  235 

"  Thou  givest  me  to  those  very  enemies  and  employers ;  and 
in  despair  lest  I  betray  them,  ere  the  day  dawn  they  cut  my 
throat  —  or  thine." 

"  Methinks,  knave,  I  have  seen  thee  before." 

"Thou  hast.  I  blush  not  for  name  or  country.  I  am 
Eodolf  of  Saxony ! " 

"I  remember  me,  —  servitor  of  Walter  de  Montreal.  He, 
then,  is  thy  instigator  ?  " 

"  Roman,  no !  That  noble  Knight  scorns  other  weapon  than 
the  open  sword,  and  his  own  hand  slays  his  own  foes.  Your 
pitiful,  miserable,  dastard  Italians  alone  employ  the  courage 
and  hire  the  arm  of  others." 

Kienzi  remained  silent.  He  had  released  hold  of  his  prisoner, 
and  stood  facing  him  ;  every  now  and  then  regarding  his 
countenance,  and  again  relapsing  into  thought.  At  length, 
casting  his  eyes  round  the  small  chamber  thus  singularly 
tenanted,  he  observed  a  kind  of  closet,  in  which  the  priests' 
robes,  and  some  articles  used  in  the  sacred  service,  were  con- 
tained. It  suggested  at  once  an  escape  from  his  dilemma ;  he 
pointed  to  it, — 

"  There,  Kodolf  of  Saxony,  shalt  thou  pass  some  part  of  this 
night,  —  a  small  penance  for  thy  meditated  crime ;  and  to- 
morrow, as  thou  lookest  for  life,  thou  wilt  reveal  all." 

"Hark  ye,  Tribune,"  returned  the  Saxon,  doggedly,  "my 
liberty  is  in  your  power,  but  neither  my  tongue  nor  my  life.  If 
I  consent  to  be  caged  in  that  hole,  you  must  swear  on  the 
crossed  hilt  of  the  dagger  that  you  now  hold  that,  on  confession 
of  all  I  know,  you  pardon  and  set  me  free.  My  employers  are 
enough  to  glut  your  rage  an'  you  were  a  tiger.  If  you  do  not 
swear  this  —  " 

"Ah !  my  modest  friend,  the  alternative  ?  " 

"  I  brain  myself  against  the  stone  wall !  Better  such  a 
death  than  the  rack ! " 

"  Fool,  I  want  not  revenge  against  such  as  thou.  Be  honest, 
and  I  swear  that,  twelve  hours  after  thy  confession,  thou  shalt 
stand  safe  and  unscathed  without  the  walls  of  Rome.  So  help 
me  our  Lord  and  his  saints  ! " 

"  I   am   content !     Donner  und  Hagel  f    I  have  lived  long 


236  RIENZI : 

enough  to  care  only  for  my  own  life,  and  the  great  captain's 
next  to  it ;  for  the  rest,  I  reck  not  if  ye  Southerns  cut  each 
other's  throats,  and  make  all  Italy  one  grave." 

With  this  benevolent  speech  Rodolf  entered  the  closet ;  but 
ere  Rienzi  could  close  the  door,  he  stepped  forth  again. 

"  Hold ! "  said  he :  "  this  blood  flows  fast.  Help  me  to 
bandage  it,  or  I  shall  bleed  to  death  ere  my  confession." 

"  Per  fede  !  "  said  the  Tribune,  his  strange  humor  enjoying 
the  man's  cool  audacity;  "but  considering  the  service  thou 
wouldst  have  rendered  me,  thou  art  the  most  pleasant,  for- 
bearing, unabashed  good  fellow  I  have  seen  this  many  a  year. 
Give  us  thine  own  belt.  I  little  thought  my  first  eve  of 
knighthood  would  have  been  so  charitably  spent !  " 

"  Methinks  these  robes  would  make  a  better  bandage,"  said 
Rodolf,  pointing  to  the  priests'  gear  suspended  from  the  wall. 

"  Silence,  knave,"  said  the  Tribune,  frowning ;  "  no  sacri- 
lege !  Yet,  as  thou  takest  such  dainty  care  of  thyself,  thou 
shalt  have  mine  own  scarf  to  accommodate  thee." 

With  that  the  Tribune,  placing  his  dagger  on  the  ground, 
while  he  cautiously  guarded  it  with  his  foot,  bound  up  the 
wounded  limb,  —  for  which  condescension  Rodolf  gave  him 
short  thanks,  —  resumed  his  weapon  and  lamp,  closed  the 
door,  drew  over  it  the  long,  heavy  bolt  without,  and  returned 
to  his  couch,  deeply  and  indignantly  musing  over  the  treason 
he  had  so  fortunately  escaped. 

At  the  first  gray  streak  of  dawn  he  went  out  of  the  great 
door  of  the  church,  called  the  sentry,  who  was  one  of  his  own 
guard,  and  bade  him  privately,  and  now  ere  the  world  was 
astir,  convey  the  prisoner  to  one  of  the  private  dungeons  of 
the  Capitol.  "Be  silent,"  said  he  ;  "utter  not  a  word  of  this 
to  any  one ;  be  obedient,  and  thou  shalt  be  promoted.  This 
done,  find  out  the  councillor,  Pandulfo  di  Guido,  and  bid  him 
seek  me  here  ere  the  crowd  assemble." 

He  then,  making  the  sentinel  doff  his  heavy  shoes  of  iron, 
led  him  across  the  church,  resigned  Rodolf  to  his  care,  saw 
them  depart,  and  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards  his  voice  was 
heard  by  the  inmates  of  the  neighboring  chapel ;  and  he  was 
soon  surrounded  by  his  train. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  237 

He  was  already  standing  on  the  floor,  wrapped  in  a  large 
gown  lined  with  furs,  and  his  piercing  eye  scanned  carefully 
the  face  of  each  man  that  approached.  Two  of  the  Barons  of 
the  Frangipani  family  exhibited  some  tokens  of  confusion  and 
embarrassment,  from  which  they  speedily  recovered  at  the 
frank  salutation  of  the  Tribune. 

But  all  the  art  of  Savelli  could  not  prevent  his  features 
from  betraying  to  the  most  indifferent  eye  the  terror  of  his 
soul ;  and  when  he  felt  the  penetrating  gaze  of  Rienzi  upon 
him,  he  trembled  in  every  joint.  Rienzi  alone  did  not,  how- 
ever, seem  to  notice  his  disorder ;  and  when  Vico  di  Scotto,  an 
old  knight,  from  whose  hands  he  received  his  sword,  asked 
him  how  he  had  passed  the  night,  he  replied,  cheerfully,  — 

"  Well,  well,  my  brave  friend !  Over  a  maiden  knight 
some  good  angel  always  watches.  Signor  Luca  di  Savelli,  I 
fear  you  have  slept  but  ill ;  you  seem  pale.  No  matter ;  our 
banquet  to-day  will  soon  brighten  the  current  of  your  gay 
blood ! " 

"  Blood,  Tribune  ! "  said  Di  Scotto,  who  was  innocent  of  the 
plot ;  "  thou  sayest  blood,  and  lo  !  on  the  floor  are  large  gouts 
of  it  not  yet  dry." 

"  Now  out  on  thee,  old  hero,  for  betraying  my  awkwardness  ! 
I  pricked  myself  with  my  own  dagger  in  unrobing.  Thank 
Heaven  it  hath  no  poison  in  its  blade ! " 

The  Frangipani  exchanged  looks  ;  Luca  di  Savelli  clung  to 
a  column  for  support ;  and  the  rest  of  the  attendants  seemed 
grave  and  surprised. 

"  Think  not  of  it,  my  masters,"  said  Kienzi ;  "  it  is  a  good 
omen  and  a  true  prophecy.  It  implies  that  he  who  girds  on 
his  sword  for  the  good  of  the  state  must  be  ready  to  spill  his 
blood  for  it :  that  am  I.  No  more  of  this,  —  a  mere  scratch  ; 
it  gave  more  blood  than  I  recked  of  from  so  slight  a  puncture, 
and  saves  the  leech  the  trouble  of  the  lancet.  How  brightly 
breaks  the  day !  We  must  prepare  to  meet  our  fellow-citizens ; 
they  will  be  here  anon.  Ha,  my  Pandulfo,  welcome  !  Thou, 
my  old  friend,  shalt  buckle  on  this  mantle ! " 

And  while  Pandulfo  was  engaged  in  the  task,  the  Tribune 
whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear,  which,  by  the  smile  on  his 


238  RIENZI : 

countenance,  seemed  to  the  attendants  one  of  the  familiar 
jests  with  which  Rienzi  distinguished  his  intercourse  with  his 
more  confidential  intimates. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    CELEBRATED    CITATION. 

THE  bell  of  the  great  Lateran  church  sounded  shrill  and  loud 
as  the  mighty  multitude,  greater  even  than  that  of  the  preceding 
night,  swept  on.  The  appointed  officers  made  way  with  diffi- 
culty for  the  barons  and  ambassadors,  and  scarcely  were  those 
noble  visitors  admitted  ere  the  crowd  closed  in  their  ranks, 
poured  headlong  into  the  church,  and  took  the  way  to  the  chapel 
of  Boniface  VIII.  There,  filling  every  cranny  and  blocking  up 
the  entrance,  the  more  fortunate  of  the  press  beheld  the  Tri- 
bune surrounded  by  the  splendid  court  his  genius  had  collected 
and  his  fortune  had  subdued.  At  length,  as  the  solemn  and 
holy  music  began  to  swell  through  the  edifice,  preluding  the 
celebration  of  the  Mass,  the  Tribune  stepped  forth,  and  the 
hush  of  the  music  was  increased  by  the  universal  and  dead 
silence  of  the  audience.  His  height,  his  air,  his  countenance, 
were  such  as  always  command  the  attention  of  crowds  ;  and  at 
this  time  they  received  every  adjunct  from  the  interest  of  the 
occasion,  and  that  peculiar  look  of  intent  yet  suppressed  fervor 
which  is  perhaps  the  sole  gift  of  the  eloquent  that  Nature 
alone  can  give. 

"  Be  it  known,"  said  he,  slowly  and  deliberately,  "  in  virtue  of 
that  authority,  power,  and  jurisdiction  which  the  Roman  people, 
in  general  parliament,  have  assigned  to  us,  and  which  the 
Sovereign  Pontiff  hath  confirmed,  that  we,  not  ungrateful  of  the 
gift  and  grace  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  whose  soldier  we  now  are, 
nor  of  the  favor  of  the  Roman  people,  declare  that  Rome,  cap- 
ital of  the  world  and  base  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  that 
every  City,  State,  and  People  of  Italy  are  henceforth  free.  By 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  239 

that  freedom,  and  in  the  same  consecrated  authority,  we  pro- 
claim that  the  election,  jurisdiction,  and  monarchy  of  the  Roman 
Empire  appertain  to  Rome  and  Rome's  people,  and  the  whole 
of  Italy.  We  cite,  then,  and  summon  personally  the  illustrious 
princes,  Louis,  Duke  of  Bavaria,  and  Charles,  King  of  Bohemia, 
who  would  style  themselves  Emperors  of  Italy,  to  appear  be- 
fore us,  or  the  other  magistrates  of  Rome,  to  plead  and  to 
prove  their  claim  between  this  day  and  the  Day  of  Pentecost. 
We  cite  also,  and  within  the  same  term,  the  Duke  of  Saxony, 
the  Prince  of  Brandenburg,  and  whosoever  else,  potentate, 
prince,  or  prelate,  asserts  the  right  of  Elector  to  the  imperial 
throne,  —  a  right  that,  we  find  it  chronicled  from  ancient  and 
immemorial  time,  appertaineth  only  to  the  Roman  people ;  and 
this  in  vindication  of  our  civil  liberties,  without  derogation  of 
the  spiritual  power  of  the  Church,  the  Pontiff,  and  the  Sacred 
College.1  Herald,  proclaim  the  citation,  at  the  greater  and  more 

1  "  H  tutto  senza  derogare  all'  autorita  della  Chiesa,  del  Papa  e  del  Sacro 
Collegio."  So  concludes  this  extraordinary  citation,  this  bold  and  wonderful 
assertion  of  the  classic  independence  of  Italy,  in  the  most  feudal  time  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  The  anonymous  biographer  of  Rienzi  declares  that  the 
Tribune  cited  also  the  Pope  and  the  Cardinals  to  reside  in  Rome.  De 
Sade  powerfully  and  incontrovertibly  refutes  this  addition  to  the  daring  or  the 
extravagance  of  Rienzi.  Gibbon,  however,  who  has  rendered  the  rest  of  the 
citation  in  terms  more  abrupt  and  discourteous  than  he  was  warranted  by  any 
authority,  copies  the  biographer's  blunder,  and  sneers  at  De  Sade  as  using  ar- 
guments "  rather  of  decency  than  of  weight."  Without  wearying  the  reader 
with  all  the  arguments  of  the  learned  Abbe,  it  may  be  sufficient  to  give  the 
first  two. 

1.  All  the  other  contemporaneous  historians  that  have  treated  of  this  event, 
G.  Villani,  Hocsemins,  the  Vatican  MSS.  and  other  chroniclers,"relating  the 
citation  of  the  Emperor  and  Electors,  say  nothing  of  that  of  the  Pope  and 
Cardinals;  and  the  Pope  (Clement  VI.),  in  his  subsequent  accusations  of 
Rienzi,  while  very  bitter  against  his  citation  of  the  Emperor,  is  wholly  silent 
on  what  would  have  been  to  the  Pontiff  the  much  greater  offence  of  citing 
himself  and  the  Cardinals. 

2.  The  literal  act  of  this  citation,  as  published  formally  in  the  Lateran,  is 
extant  in  Hocsemius  (whence  is  borrowed,  though  not  at  all  its  length,  the 
speech  in  the  text  of  our  present  tale) ;  and  in  this  document  the  Pope  and 
his  Cardinals  are  not  named  in  the  summons. 

Gibbon's  whole  account  of  Rienzi  is  superficial  and  unfair.  To  the  cold  and 
sneering  scepticism,  which  so  often  deforms  the  gigantic  work  of  that  great 
writer,  allowing  nothing  for  that  sincere  and  urgent  enthusiasm  which,  whether 


240  RIENZI : 

formal  length,  as  written  and  intrusted  to  your  hands,  without 
the  Lateran." 

As  Eienzi  concluded  this  bold  proclamation  of  the  liberties 
of  Italy,  the  Tuscan  ambassadors  and  those  of  some  other  of 
the  free  States  murmured  low  approbation.  The  ambassadors 
of  those  States  that  affected  the  party  of  the  Emperor  looked 
at  each  other  in  silent  amaze  and  consternation.  The  Roman 
Barons  remained  with  mute  lips  and  downcast  eyes  ;  only  over 
the  aged  face  of  Stephen  Colonna  settled  a  smile,  half  of 
scorn,  half  of  exultation.  But  the  great  mass  of  the  citizens 
were  caught  by  words  that  opened  so  grand  a  prospect  as  the 
emancipation  of  all  Italy :  and  their  reverence  of  the  Tribune's 
power  and  fortune  was  almost  that  due  to  a  supernatural  be- 
ing ;  so  that  they  did  not  pause  to  calculate  the  means  which 
were  to  correspond  with  the  boast. 

While  his  eye  roved  over  the  crowd,  the  gorgeous  assemblage 
near  him,  the  devoted  throng  beyond;  as  on  his  ear  boomed 
the  murmur  of  thousands  and  ten  thousands,  in  the  space  with- 
out, from  before  the  Palace  of  Constantino  (Palace  now  his 
own ! ),  sworn  to  devote  life  and  fortune  to  his  cause ;  in  the 
flush  of  prosperity  that  yet  had  known  no  check ;  in  the  zenith 
of  power,  as  yet  unconscious  of  reverse,  —  the  heart  of  the 
Tribune  swelled  proudly ;  visions  of  mighty  fame  and  limit- 
less dominion,  —  fame  and  dominion  once  his  beloved  Rome's 
and  by  him  to  be  restored,  —  rushed  before  his  intoxicated 
gaze;  and  in  the  delirious  and  passionate  aspirations  of  the 
moment  he  turned  his  sword  alternately  to  the  three  quarters 
of  the  then  known  globe,  and  said,  in  an  abstracted  voice,  as  a 
man  in  a  dream,  "  In  the  right  of  the  Roman  people  this  too  is 
mine ! "  * 

Low  though  the  voice,  the  wild  boast  was  heard  by  all  around 
as  distinctly  as  if  borne  to  them  in  thunder.  And  vain  it  were 

of  liberty  or  religion,  is  the  most  common  parent  of  daring  action,  the  great 
Koman  seems  but  an  ambitious  and  fantastic  madman.  In  Gibbon's  hands 
what  would  Cromwell  have  been  ?  what  Vane  ?  what  Hampden  ?  The 
pedant  Julian,  with  his  dirty  person  and  pompous  affectation,  was  Gibbon's 
ideal  of  a  great  man. 
1  Questo  e  mio. 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  241 

to  describe  the  various  sensations  it  excited :  the  extravagance 
would  have  moved  the  derision  of  his  foes,  the  grief  of  his 
friends,  but  for  the  manner  of  the  speaker,  which,  solemn  and 
commanding,  hushed  for  the  moment  even  reason  and  hatred 
themselves  in  awe ;  afterwards  remembered  and  repeated,  void 
of  the  spell  they  had  borrowed  from  the  utterer,  the  words  met 
the  cold  condemnation  of  the  well-judging ;  but  at  that  moment 
all  things  seemed  possible  to  the  hero  of  the  people.  He  spoke 
as  one  inspired  —  they  trembled  and  believed;  and  as,  rapt 
from  the  spectacle,  he  stood  a  moment  silent,  his  arm  still  ex- 
tended, his  dark,  dilating  eye  fixed  upon  space,  his  lip  parted, 
his  proud  head  towering  and  erect  above  the  herd,  —  his  own 
enthusiasm  kindled  that  of  the  more  humble  and  distant  spec- 
tators ;  and  there  was  a  deep  murmur  begun  by  one,  echoed  by 
the  rest,  "  The  Lord  is  with  Italy  and  Bienzi ! " 

The  Tribune  turned ;  he  saw  the  Pope's  Vicar  astonished, 
bewildered,  rising  to  speak.  His  sense  and  foresight  returned 
to  him  at  once,  and,  resolved  to  drown  the  dangerous  disa- 
vowal of  the  Papal  authority  for  this  hardihood,  which  was 
ready  to  burst  from  Kaimond's  lips,  he  motioned  quickly  to  the 
musicians,  and  the  solemn  and  ringing  chant  of  the  sacred 
ceremony  prevented  the  Bishop  of  Orvietto  all  occasion  of  self- 
exoneration  or  reply. 

The  moment  the  ceremony  was  over,  Eienzi  touched  the 
Bishop,  and  whispered,  "  We  will  explain  this  to  your  liking. 
You  feast  with  us  at  the  Lateran.  Your  arm."  Nor  did  he 
leave  the  good  Bishop's  arm,  nor  trust  him  to  other  companion- 
ship, until  to  the  stormy  sound  of  horn  and  trumpet,  drum  and 
cymbal,  and  amidst  such  a  concourse  as  might  have  hailed,  on 
the  same  spot,  the  legendary  baptism  of  Constantine,  the  Tribune 
and  his  nobles  entered  the  great  gates  of  the  Lateran,  then  the 
Palace  of  the  World. 

Thus  ended  that  remarkable  ceremony  and  that  proud  chal- 
lenge of  the  Northern  Powers  in  behalf  of  the  Italian  liberties, 
which,  had  it  been  afterwards  successful,  would  have  been 
deemed  a  sublime  daring ;  which,  unsuccessful,  has  been  con- 
strued by  the  vulgar  into  a  frantic  insolence ;  but  which,  calmly 
considering  all  the  circumstances  that  urged  on  the  Tribune, 

VOL.    I.  —  16 


242  RIENZI : 

and  all  the  power  that  surrounded  him,  was  not,  perhaps,  alto- 
gether so  imprudent  as  it  seemed.  And  even  accepting  that 
imprudence  in  the  extremest  sense,  by  the  more  penetrating 
judge  of  the  higher  order  of  character  it  will  probably  be  con- 
sidered as  the  magnificent  folly  of  a  bold  nature,  excited  at 
once  by  position  and  prosperity,  by  religious  credulities,  by 
patriotic  aspirings,  by  scholastic  visions  too  suddenly  trans- 
ferred from  revery  to  action,  beyond  that  wise  and  earthward 
policy  which  sharpens  the  weapon  ere  it  casts  the  gauntlet. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    FESTIVAL. 

THE  festival  of  that  day  was  far  the  most  sumptuous  hitherto 
known.  The  hint  of  Cecco  del  Vecchio,  which  so  well  depicted 
the  character  of  his  fellow-citizens,  as  yet  it  exists,  though  not 
to  such  excess,  in  their  love  of  holiday  pomp  and  gorgeous 
show,  was  not  lost  upon  Rlenzi.  One  instance  of  the  universal 
banqueting  (intended,  indeed,  rather  for  the  people  than  the 
higher  ranks)  may  illustrate  the  more  than  royal  profusion 
that  prevailed.  From  morn  till  eve,  streams  of  wine  flowed 
like  a  fountain  from  the  nostrils  of  the  Horse  of  the  great 
Equestrian  Statue  of  Constantine.  The  mighty  halls  of  the 
Lateran  palace,  open  to  all  ranks,  were  prodigally  spread ;  and 
the  games,  sports,  and  buffooneries  of  the  time  were  in  ample 
requisition.  Apart,  the  Tribunessa,  as  Nina  was  rather  un- 
classically  entitled,  entertained  the  dames  of  Rome ;  while 
the  Tribune  had  so  effectually  silenced  or  conciliated  Raimond 
that  the  good  Bishop  shared  his  peculiar  table,  —  the  only  one 
admitted  to  that  honor.  As  the  eye  ranged  each  saloon  and 
hall,  it  beheld  the  space  lined  with  all  the  nobility  and  knight- 
hood, the  wealth  and  strength,  the  learning  and  the  beauty,  of 
the  Italian  metropolis,  mingled  with  ambassadors  and  noble 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  243 

strangers  even  from  beyond  the  Alps,1  —  envoys  not  only  of 
the  Free  States  that  had  welcomed  the  rise  of  the  Tribune,  but 
of  the  high-born  and  haughty  tyrants  who  had  first  derided 
his  arrogance,  and  now  cringed  to  his  power.  There  were  not 
only  the  ambassadors  of  Florence,  of  Sienna,  of  Arezzo  (which 
last  subjected  its  government  to  the  Tribune),  of  Todi,  of 
Spoleto,  and  of  countless  other  lesser  towns  and  states,  but 
also  of  the  dark  and  terrible  Visconti,  prince  of  Milan,  of 
Obizzo  of  Ferrara,  and  of  the  tyrant  rulers  of  Verona  and 
Bologna;  even  the  proud  and  sagacious  Malatesta,  lord  of 
Rimini,  —  whose  arm  afterwards  broke  for  a  while  the  power 
of  Montreal  at  the  head  of  his  Great  Company,  —  had  deputed 
his  representative  in  his  most  honored  noble.  John  di  Vico, 
the  worst  and  most  malignant  despot  of  his  day,  —  who  had 
sternly  defied  the  arms  of  the  Tribune,  —  now  subdued  and 
humbled,  was  there  in  person ;  and  the  ambassadors  of  Hun- 
gary and  of  Naples  mingled  with  those  of  Bavaria  and 
Bohemia,  whose  sovereigns  that  day  had  been  cited  to  the 
Roman  Judgment  Court.  The  nodding  of  plumes,  the  glitter 
of  jewels  and  cloth  of  gold,  the  rustling  of  silks  and  jingle  of 
golden  spurs,  the  waving  of  banners  from  the  roof,  the 
sounds  of  minstrelsy  from  the  galleries  above,  —  all  presented 
a  picture  of  such  power  and  state,  a  court  and  chivalry  of 
such  show,  as  the  greatest  of  the  feudal  kings  might  have 
beheld  with  a  sparkling  eye  and  a  swelling  heart.  But  at  that 
moment  the  cause  and  lord  of  all  that  splendor,  recovered 
from  his  late  exhilaration,  sat  moody  and  abstracted,  remem- 
bering with  a  thoughtful  brow  the  adventure  of  the  past  night, 
and  sensible  that  amongst  his  gaudiest  revellers  lurked  his 
intended  murderers.  Amidst  the  swell  of  the  minstrelsy  and 
the  pomp  of  the  crowd,  he  felt  that  treason  scowled  beside 
him ;  and  the  image  of  the  skeleton  obtruding,  as  of  old,  its 
grim  thought  of  death  upon  the  feast,  darkened  the  ruby  of 
the  wine  and  chilled  the  glitter  of  the  scene. 

It  was  while  the  feast  was  loudest  that  Rienzi's  page  was 
seen  gliding  through  the  banquet  and  whispering  several  of 

1  The  simple  and  credulous  biographer  of  Rienzi  declares  his  fame  to  have 
reached  the  ears  of  the  Soldan  of  Babylon. 


244  RIENZI : 

the  nobles ;  each  bowed  low,  but  changed  color  as  he  received 
the  message. 

"  My  Lord  Savelli,"  said  Orsini,  himself  trembling,  "  bear 
yourself  more  bravely.  This  must  be  meant  in  honor,  not 
revenge.  I  suppose  your  summons  corresponds  with  mine." 

"  He  —  he  —  asks  —  asks  —  me  to  supper  at  the  Capitol ;  a 
f ri  —  endly  meeting  —  (pest  on  his  friendship  ! )  —  after  the 
noise  of  the  day." 

"  The  words  addressed  also  to  me  !  "  said  Orsini,  turning  to 
one  of  the  Frangipani. 

Those  who  received  the  summons  soon  broke  from  the  feast 
and  collected  in  a  group,  eagerly  conferring.  Some  were  for 
flight,  —  but  flight  was  confession;  their  number,  rank,  long 
and  consecrated  impunity  reassured  them,  and  they  resolved 
to  obey.  The  old  Colonna,  the  sole  innocent  Baron  of  the 
invited  guests,  was  also  the  only  one  who  refused  the  invita- 
tion. "  Tush ! "  said  he,  peevishly,  "  here  is  feasting  enough 
for  one  day !  Tell  the  Tribune  that  ere  he  sups  I  hope  to 
be  asleep.  Gray  hairs  cannot  encounter  all  this  fever  of 
festivity." 

As  Rienzi  rose  to  depart,  which  he  did  early,  for  the  ban- 
quet took  place  while  yet  morning,  Raimond,  eager  to  escape 
and  confer  with  some  of  his  spiritual  friends  as  to  the  report 
he  should  make  to  the  Pontiff,  was  beginning  his  expres- 
sions of  farewell,  when  the  merciless  Tribune  said  to  him 
gravely,  — 

"  My  lord,  we  want  you  on  urgent  business  at  the  Capitol. 
A  prisoner,  a  trial,  perhaps,"  he  added,  with  his  portentous 
and  prophetic  frown,  "an  execution,  waits  us!  Come." 

"Verily,  Tribune,"  stammered  the  good  Bishop,  "this  is 
a  strange  time  for  execution ! " 

"  Last  night  was  a  time  yet  more  strange.     Come." 

There  was  something  in  the  way  in  which  the  final  word 
was  pronounced  that  Raimond  could  not  resist.  He  sighed, 
muttered,  twitched  his  robes,  and  followed  the  Tribune.  As 
he  passed  through  the  halls,  the  company  rose  on  all  sides. 
Rienzi  repaid  their  salutations  with  smiles  and  whispers  of 
frank  courtesy  and  winning  address.  Young  as  he  yet  was, 


THE  LAST  OF   THE   TRIBUNES.  245 

and  of  a  handsome  and  noble  presence  that  took  every  advan- 
tage from  splendid  attire,  and  yet  more  from  an  appearance  of 
intellectual  command  in  his  brow  and  eye  which  the  less 
cultivated  signers  of  that  dark  age  necessarily  wanted,  he 
glittered  through  the  court  as  one  worthy  to  form,  and  fitted 
to  preside  over,  it ;  and  his  supposed  descent  from  the  Teuton 
Emperor,  which,  since  his  greatness,  was  universally  bruited 
and  believed  abroad,  seemed  undeniably  visible  to  the  foreign 
lords  in  the  majesty  of  his  mien  and  the  easy  blandness  of 
his  address. 

"  My  Lord  Prefect,"  said  he  to  a  dark  and  sullen  personage 
in  black  velvet,  the  powerful  and  arrogant  John  di  Vico,  pre- 
fect of  Rome,  "we  are  rejoiced  to  find  so  noble  a  guest  at 
Rome ;  we  must  repay  the  courtesy  by  surprising  you  in  your 
own  palace  ere  long.  —  Nor  will  you,  Signor,"  as  he  turned  to 
the  envoy  from  Tivoli,  "  refuse  us  a  shelter  amidst  your  groves 
and  waterfalls  ere  the  vintage  be  gathered.  Methinks  Rome, 
united  with  sweet  Tivoli,  grows  reconciled  to  the  Muses. — 
Your  suit  is  carried,  Master  Venoni :  the  council  recognizes  its 
justice ;  but  I  reserved  the  news  for  this  holiday.  You  do  not 
blame  me,  I  trust  ?  "  This  was  whispered,  with  a  half-affec- 
tionate frankness,  to  a  worthy  citizen,  who,  finding  himself 
amidst  so  many  of  the  great,  would  have  shrunk  from  the 
notice  of  the  Tribune ;  but  it  was  the  policy  of  Rienzi  to  pay 
an  especial  and  marked  attention  to  those  engaged  in  com- 
mercial pursuits.  As,  after  tarrying  a  moment  or  two  with 
the  merchant,  he  passed  on,  the  tall  person  of  the  old  Colonna 
caught  his  eye,  — 

"  Signor,"  said  he,  with  a  profound  inclination  of  his  head, 
but  with  a  slight  emphasis  of  tone,  "  you  will  not  fail  us  this 
evening." 

"  Tribune  —  "  began  the  Colonna. 

"We  receive  no  excuse,"  interrupted  the  Tribune,  hastily, 
and  passed  on. 

He  halted  for  a  few  moments  before  a  small  group  of  men 
plainly  attired,  who  were  watching  him  with  intense  interest ; 
for  they,  too,  were  scholars,  and  in  Rienzi's  rise  they  saw 
another  evidence  of  that  wonderful  and  sudden  power  which 


246  RIENZI : 

intellect  had  begun  to  assume  over  brute  force.  With  these, 
as  if  abruptly  mingled  with  congenial  spirits,  the  Tribune 
relaxed  all  the  gravity  of  his  brow.  Happier,  perhaps,  his 
living  career,  more  unequivocal  his  posthumous  renown,  had 
his  objects  as  his  tastes  been  theirs  ! 

"  Ah,  carissime  !  "  said  he  to  one,  whose  arm  he  drew  within 
his  own,  "  and  how  proceeds  thy  interpretation  of  the  old  mar- 
bles,—  half  unravelled?  I  rejoice  to  hear  it!  Confer  with 
me  as  of  old,  I  pray  thee.  To-morrow  —  no,  nor  the  day  after, 
but  next  week  —  we  will  have  a  tranquil  evening.  —  Dear 
poet,  your  ode  transported  me  to  the  days  of  Horace;  yet, 
methinks,  we  do  wrong  to  reject  the  vernacular  for  the  Latin. 
You  shake  your  head  ?  Well,  Petrarch  thinks  with  you ;  his 
great  epic  moves  with  the  stride  of  a  giant,  —  so  I  hear  from 
his  friend  and  envoy,  —  and  here  he  is !  —  My  Laelius,  is 
that  not  your  name  with  Petrarch  ?  How  shall  I  express 
my  delight  at  his  comforting,  his  inspiring  letter  ?  Alas ! 
he  overrates  not  my  intentions,  but  my  power.  Of  this 
hereafter." 

A  slight  shade  darkened  the  Tribune's  brow  at  these  words ; 
but  moving  on,  a  long  line  of  nobles  and  princes  on  either  side, 
he  regained  his  self-possession  and  the  dignity  he  had  dropped 
with  his  former  equals.  Thus  he  passed  through  the  crowd, 
and  gradually  disappeared. 

"  He  bears  him  bravely,"  said  one,  as  the  revellers  reseated 
themselves.  "Noticed  you  the  we,  —  the  style  royal?" 

"But  it  must  be  owned  that  he  lords  it  well,"  said  the 
ambassador  of  the  Visconti ;  "  less  pride  would  be  cringing  to 
his  haughty  court." 

"  Why,"  said  a  professor  of  Bologna,  "  why  is  the  Tribune 
called  proud  ?  I  see  no  pride  in  him." 

"Nor  I,"  said  a  wealthy  jeweller. 

While  these  and  yet  more  contradictory  comments  followed 
the  exit  of  the  Tribune,  he  passed  into  the  saloon  where  Nina 
presided ;  and  here  his  fair  person  and  silver  tongue  (Suavis 
coloratceque  sententice,  according  to  the  description  of  Petrarch) 
won  him  a  more  general  favor  with  the  matrons  than  he  expe- 
rienced with  their  lords,  and  not  a  little  contrasted  the  formal 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRIBUNES.  247 

and  nervous  compliments  of  the  good  Bishop,  who  served 
him  on  such  occasions  with  an  excellent  foil. 

But  as  soon  as  the  ceremonies  were  done,  and  Kienzi 
mounted  his  horse,  his  manner  changed  at  once  into  a  stern 
and  ominous  severity. 

"  Vicar,"  said  he,  abruptly,  to  the  Bishop,  "  we  might  well 
need  your  presence.  Learn  that  at  the  Capitol  now  sits  the 
Council  in  judgment  upon  an  assassin.  Last  night,  but  for 
Heaven's  mercy,  I  should  have  fallen  a  victim  to  a  hireling's 
dagger.  Knew  you  aught  of  this  ?  " 

And  he  turned  so  sharply  on  the  Bishop  that  the  poor  can- 
onist nearly  dropped  from  his  horse  in  surprise  and  terror. 

"  I ! "  said  he. 

Bienzi  smiled.  "  No,  good  my  Lord  Bishop  !  I  see  you  are 
of  no  murderer's  mould.  But  to  continue :  that  I  might  not 
appear  to  act  in  mine  own  cause,  I  ordered  the  prisoner  to  be 
tried  in  my  absence.  In  his  trial — you  marked  the  letter 
brought  me  at  our  banquet  ?  " 

"  Ay,  and  you  changed  color." 

"  Well  I  might ;  in  his  trial,  I  say,  he  has  confessed  that 
some  of  the  loftiest  lords  of  Rome  were  his  instigators.  They 
sup  with  me  to-night !  Vicar,  forward !  " 


END    OF    VOL.    I. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 

COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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NO*  RENEWABLE 


5     1965 


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DATE  Ot  KtUtltt 

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UCLA-College  Library 

PR  4919  A1 1891  v.1 


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Al 
18 
v. 


